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SONS OF VENGEANCE 




♦ 


SONS OF 
VENGEANCE 


A TALE OF THE 
CUMBERLAND HIGHLANDERS 


By JOSEPH S. MALONE 



New York Chicago Toronto 

Fleming H. Revell Company 

London and Edinburgh 



Copyright, 1903, by 
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 


(August) 





SEP 12 1903 I 



New York; 158 Fifth Avenue 
Chicago : 63 Washington Street 
Toronto : 27 Richmond Street, W. 
London : 2 1 Paternoster Square 
Edinburgh : 30 St. Mary Street 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

/. 

A Mountain Wash-Day., 




PAGE 

9 

II. 

Going to His Deaths 




14 

III. 

A Rough Mountain Funeral, 



25 

IV. 

Feudists in Council, 




33 

V. 

Bill Scruggs in Agony, 




46 

VI. 

Scruggs Visits the Elder, 




54 

VII 

The Feud Settled, 




64 

VIII. 

A Conference, 




74 

IX. 

A n Honest Lawyer, 




82 

X. 

At Keith* s Office, 




90 

XI. 

A Rebuff, . 




96 

XII. 

A Fishing Trip, 




104 

XIII. 

Fishing in Earnest, 




115 

XIV. 

An Election, 




127 

XV. 

The Sunday School, 




136 

XVI 

A Christmas Tree, 




M 5 

XVII 

Uncle Harve*s Visit, . 




154 

XVIII 

Hells Half- Acre, 




166 

XIX. 

The Mountain Girl Makes 

a 

Determination, 

173 

XX. 

A Meeting of Friends, 




181 

XXI 

“ Sis ** Goes to School, . 




191 


5 


6 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXII, In the Throes of Civilisation^ . . .200 

XXIII, The Moonshiners^ 214 

XXIV, The Raid, 227 

XXV, Uncle Harve in Louisville^ . . . 243 

XXVI, The Trial, 254 

XXVII, Ruth Graduates, 266 

XXVIII, The Feud Renewed, , , . .277 

XXIX, Mr, Keith Comes to Court, . . .288 

XXX, Constancy's Reward, , . . .299 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 

PAGE 

last the pale and feeble old man was put in 
the prisoners' dockf Title 

“ The brave strong man never quailed f . . . 22 

could hear the words being ojfered to God in 
supplication for his people f . . . . 59 

“ He saw her place the pail of milk upon her head 

and walk to the spring f . . . . .116 

Ham stopped as still as though struck by a bolt of 

lightning^ ” 17* 

Could it be possible that this was ‘ Sis ’ of the 

mountain cabin V 268 


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SONS OF VENGEANCE 


I 

A MOUNTAIN WASH-DAY 

I T was wash-day at the Finleys’. The tub, which had 
served its day as half of a whiskey barrel, was 
perched upon stones to raise it a little and keep it 
steady. The iron wash-pot, a great and unusual treasure 
for that part of the country, having been brought from 
Oakville when Finley senior had been down there attend- 
ing court, was carefully propped against a large rock and 
so fixed upon smaller stones that a fire could be built 
under it to heat the water for boiling the clothes. An old 
and battered tin boiler, with a home-made splint-bottomed 
chair under it, completed the utensils for the weekly day 
of hard work and bad temper. 

Mrs. Finley was altogether out of sorts ” upon such 
occasions; not that she had many clothes to wash, but 
she resented having to wash at all. This day she was 
troubled more than common, because her old man had 
left home before light with his rifle on his shoulder, and 
to her questions as to his destination had replied, “ Y’u 

9 


10 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


min’ y’r washin’,” and was gone before she “ could get in 
a word to sass him back.” 

Standing at the wash-boiler, rinsing out what Sis, her 
** second gal,” had scrubbed in the tub, Mrs. Finley 
smoked her pipe and for a wonder kept silence for an 
hour or so. Her wrath was great and filled her with 
raging waves of fury. For Pete to treat her so mean, 
as if she were nobody but a washerwoman, while she was 
the mother of his children, and had for so many years 

done fer him as if he was the onliest man in all the wide 
world,” was a new thing to her. As she thought and 
thought she was hot and cold by turns, until the usual 
wrath of wash-days, in which she made Sis and six-year- 
old Babe stand around and look sharp,” was nothing 
in comparison, so she was silent; no words could express 
her feelings. 

Sis had been too much awed by her mother’s face and 
manner to speak to Babe, whom she had been watching 
with anxious eyes for some time. Babe, “ between 
spells ” of dipping and bringing water, had built a dam 
on the spring branch, and otherwise interested herself, 
splashing in the water. Tiring of these amusements, 
and not being in fear of her mother, as she was a person 
with privileges, she rushed to her mother’s side and, tak- 
ing hold of her apron, cried : Mam, I wants tuh go tuh 
th’ house an’ get a snack.” 

The mother shivered at the sound of the child’s voice, 
and, turning from her work, looked in her face, and 


A MOUNTAIN WASH-DAY 11 


taking her in her arms, sat down upon a stone, rocking 
herself in the strange way Kentucky mountain mothers 
have with their infants, yet said not a word. Strangely 
impressed, the child first wept softly, and then, violently. 

‘‘ Hush, honey! Mam’s heart’s broke,” the mother said, 
as her child’s grief at last drew her mind from her own 
sorrow. Scarcely had she spoken when a loud cry came 
from the cabin, Mam, cum heyeh, quick. Some men’s 
a-comin’ up th’ holler.” 

Putting the child down, Mrs. Finley ran up the hill- 
side towards the cabin. She put her hands above her 
eyes to shade them, and gazing down the path into the 
hollow which led out to the “ big road,” she saw eight or 
ten men moving up the hill, bearing what seemed to be 
a human body. Intuitively she knew it was her husband 
or her eldest son — the latter had been away for some 
days — who was being brought home to her. She did not 
scream after the way of most women, but stood silent 
and shivering with suppressed feeling, then raising her 
eyes, sad and dull by suffering, she made what speed she 
could down the steep, rocky slope, to meet the men who 
were bearing the dead form. A single glance told her 
the truth ; it was Pete. 

They had not wiped away the blood from the mouth, 
from which it had flowed when the fatal ball from the 
Winchester rifle had ploughed its cruel way through his 
lungs. Her first act was to wipe away this blood, put a 
hand upon his forehead, and say with a sob, '' Oh, Pete, 


12 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


I wuz a-havin’ hard thoughts agin’ y’u when y’u wuz 
a-bein’ shot. Oh, God! Don’t hoi’ it agin’ a poor 
woman, who’ll mourn all her livin’ days.” Then there 
arose a wail, which seemed to penetrate the gorges of the 
mountains and come back in echoes of agony. It smote 
the men as if every sound in nature was calling for venge- 
ance upon the one who had murdered the man they 
bore in their arms. 

Jim Stokes, her brother, one of the bearers, cried, 

Lis’en, Mary, to me. When I heard th’ crack o’ th’ 
rifle an’ then Pete’s gun twict, I picked up mine an’ fas’ 
as I could git thar, went tuh Bascom’s Spring an’ foun’ 
Pete a-lyin’ on his face on th’ edge of th’ crick. He 
wa’n’t dead, but th’ blood was a-spoutin’ from his mouth, 
an’ he wuz a-prayin’ so low an’ quiet-like, I hardly beared 
what he wuz a-sayin’. He looked bright-like outen his 
eyes when he seen me, then he smiled jest as he wuz shore 
tuh do when he seen his frien’s, an’ takin’ o’ my hand, he 
said soft-like, ‘ Tell Mary, I’m powerful sorry I spoke tuh 
her like I did this mornin’ an’ ast her tuh forgin me. I 
knew I mought be killed ’fore I got tuh y’ur house, Jim, 
an’ I couldn’t bear tuh talk tuh her an’ tell her whut I 
wuz a-goin’ fer. Y’u tell her my las’ thoughts is fer her 
an’ th’ children, an’ I’m trustin’ in th’ Lord Jesus that 
shed His blood tuh save poor sinners jest like me.’ I sot 
down in th’ water, fer I was afeered tuh try an’ move him, 
an’ I hel’ his head an’ shoulders in my arms ’til with a big 
gasp he were gone.” 


A MOUNTAIN WASH-DAY 13 


She listened as if hearing from another world, and 
holding one limp and cold hand in hers, she walked be- 
side the body as it was slowly borne to the cabin, from 
which, the living man went forth that morning. 

When the cabin was entered, they laid him upon three 
chairs, and, after the children and the mother had been 
permitted to exhaust themselves in the tempest of grief 
which swept over them, some of the men took their 
stations near the house, hidden by trees and rocks, while 
others departed to warn the friends and relatives and to 
make other preparations for the funeral. 


II 


GOING TO HIS DEATH 

P ETE FINLEY was not a happy man on that fatal 
morning when he swung himself away from his 
wife and plunged down the mountain path over the 
stones and roots, while it was yet so dark that he could 
not see his way. He was an affectionate man, and loved, 
with the whole power of a passionate nature, his family 
and his Cumberland mountain home where he had been 
born, and where his father’s family had lived for genera- 
tions. 

The land was very poor and rocky, and it was hard to 
grow enough corn to bread the family, and feed the few 
specimens of what he called his stock. But it had been 
taken up when his ancestors came from Virginia, or 
rather when it was part of Virginia, and now he could 
hunt the deer and the smaller animals of the woods and 
occasionally do a day’s work for some of the landholders 
on the creek bottoms. Ideas of wealth and plenty were 
altogether foreign to him. He was content with a log 
cabin, and his rocky acres on a Kentucky mountain side, 
and never thought of envying any man, however great. 
Whenever he went to musters or elections, or to the 

14 


GOING TO HIS DEATH 


16 


county seat as principal or witness in some case before 
the court, he looked straight in every eye, and was as 
independent in his feelings and ways as if he owned the 
State of Kentucky in fee simple. He stood six feet one 
inch in his bare feet, as straight as one of the mountain 
pines on his farm, and hardened in life and muscle by a 
life of toil and freedom in the air of the mountains, until 
he could handle ordinary men as if they were playthings. 
He always went armed, and it was a saying through- 
out the mountains, as far as he was known, that 
the “ craps ’ill fail whenever Pete Finley misses what he 
draws a bead on ’ith his oP gun.” 

No tenderer heart ever beat in a human being than 
throbbed in his breast, though it was seldom that it could 
be proved by his words. 

But he would give away the last thing he had to help 
those poorer than himself, and get up before day to cut 
wood for the sick or to tote ” a bag of corn to the mill 
for a widow. 

A deeply religious man, after the mode of his country, 
he was always relied upon by the Elder to be present and 
help by singing and prayer in every meeting. 

Now he is on his way to the place of meeting of those 
on his side of the feud, and if he comes in contact with one 
of the other side, he will shoot him without remorse or 
giving him an instant to prepare or defend himself, or 
to think about eternity. 

His brother-in-law, Jim Stokes, had a neighbour who 


16 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


turned his starving hogs out to live upon the public. 
These hogs, made wise by having to shift for themselves, 
found many ways of getting into the cornfield, now in 
the roasting-ear period of development, where they tore 
down and trampled under their feet so much of the corn 
that this brother-in-law, fix his fences as he would, and 
watch his field as sharply as he might, came to the con- 
clusion that his family would have to do without bread 
for a year if he did not find some plan to stop 
their work of destruction. 

The hog who moved about on two feet and owned 
those travelling on four, when remonstrated with about 
the damage being done to the corn, only turned up his lip 
and said: 

Make y’ur fence so as a hog can't get through it nur 
over nur under it, an' then keep y'r ugly mouth shet, an' 
you'll hev both more corn an' more peace." 

The man who had planted the com, flashing up in a 
temper, like powder when it receives a touch of fire, re- 
plied: “ Looky hey eh, John Mack, y'u've kep' y'ur stock 
on me an' my neighbours fer years, and many a time my 
children hez hed tuh go tuh bed hungry ; them hogs has 
eat up the food that they ought to have had. Y'r time's 
up in these parts. Ef y'r hogs get in my com agin, I'm 
goin' to set my dogs on 'em, an' ef that don't keep ’em 
away I'll shoot 'em." 

Stokes walked away without waiting for an answer, 
but with a look upon his face which anyone knowing 


GOING TO HIS DEATH 


17 


him would see meant mischief. Next morning, finding 
the hogs in the corn as usual, tearing and rending it after 
their kind, Stokes called his dogs. Soon the sounds of 
barking and squealing were mingled in the morning air, 
broken in a few minutes by the clear ring of a rifle 
sounding from the fence next to Mack’s farm. 

Grasping his Winchester Stokes ran as fast as he could 
to the place from whence the noise came. He was soon 
met by his favourite dog running upon three feet, and 
bleeding from a ghastly wound. Angry, and as anxious 
as he was to find and punish the man who had shot his 
dog, he paused a moment to soothe it in its pain before 
rushing into the corn, his gun cocked, and every sense 
alert and eager for his foe. 

Mack knew so well what to expect that he fled as soon 
as he saw the effect of his shot, and when Stokes arrived 
at the fence, though he carefully searched, he had to 
give up the hope of finding his enemy, and turn his at- 
tention to the hogs. He set his unharmed dogs on them, 
shot two or three of the oldest and worst, and then, get- 
ting those which were alive out of the field, and repairing 
the fences, he turned his steps towards the house. 

He did not permit himself to be deceived for a moment 
in relation to the consequences of what he had done. He 
knew that Mack would leave home and watch for him 
day and night as long as nature could stand the strain. 
That he would shoot him in the back from ambush, or 
waylay him in any way malice would suggest, or his 


18 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

skill as a hunter enable him to use, he was perfectly 
certain. 

He could not bring himself to swear out a warrant for 
Mack and have him bound over by the magistrate to keep 
the peace, for, to do this, he would have to swear that he 
was afraid of him, which he would rather die than do. 
He knew, too, that Mack would not regard such a bind- 
ing over for a moment, as the bond was small, and be- 
ing emboldened by the conviction that Stokes was a cow- 
ard, and afraid of him, would only kill him the sooner. 
His only hope of living was to take to the woods and kill 
Mack before he could have an opportunity to kill him. 
He did not trust himself to say farewell to anyone about 
the house, but taking a good supply of ammunition for 
his rifle, he moved cautiously into the shelter of the trees, 
and, with cat-like tread, began his search for his enemy. 

Mack never went to his house after he shot the dog, for 
he reasoned that his best chance was to slip into the 
woods and conceal himself where he could watch the house 
and see the way Stokes went when he left home, as he was 
sure to do, and then kill him before he began his search 
and while he was off his guard. 

If Stokes had not seen through the scheme, he would 
have been shot at the edge of the stable lot, as he leaped 
the fence. As he moved into the woods he kept his body 
covered by some tree or rock, never for a moment ex- 
posing himself in the direction his foe would have to 
come. He felt sure Mack was in the woods in front of 


GOING TO HIS DEATH 


19 


him somewhere, and though he kept his eyes always 
watching for a movement and his ears strained for a 
sound, he neither saw nor heard anything. 

Mack had seen him leave the house and come towards 
the woods, and was only waiting to get him in range for a 
sure shot, as he knew to miss or to give a slight wound 
was certain death to himself. Perfectly still, strained and 
attentive he stood behind the protection of his cover, 
hearing Stokes moving in his direction^ though so skil- 
fully that he had no chance for a shot. He thought at his 
next movement he would get it, and lifted his gun to his 
shoulder to be ready. 

Though Stokes did not see this, it showed him that 
something moved, and he was sure that Mack was behind 
that tree, and that what he saw was the movement of his 
gun. 

Then began a testing of the men in every element 
which goes to the making of strength and giving of en- 
durance, in that cool determination and courage for 
which strong men are noted. The one who first became 
excited, or lost even a shade of his nerve, was sure to die 
at the hands of the other. 

Each man knew this, and each summoned his powers 
to calm his spirit and give steadiness to his purpose, to 
save his own life by taking that of his enemy. 

It was a duel which none but such men as now con- 
fronted each other could fight. The blood of many gen- 
erations of hardy, brave men was flowing in their veins — 


20 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


not surging or lashed by tempestuous rage, but domi- 
nated by a will which said “ I am master,'^ and which 
called the whole man to serve the purpose of that one 
hour, which was now to show the educating force of the 
circumstances which mould mountain men. 

Mack, whether he was the weaker man in will-power, 
or because he was first in bringing on the trouble (as 
some say to this day), showed the strain by trying to 
look around the tree to find out what Stokes was doing. 
Then Stokes knew, instantly, that he had only to control 
himself for a short time and all would be over. 

Quietly moving his gun straight up the tree and plac- 
ing it slowly and by degrees so that he could use it as if 
it were part of himself, he waited and took no notice that 
Mack could see of the rapid movements of his head. 
These movements showed more and more the loss of re- 
straining power, as they became increasingly nervous, as 
well as less concealed. 

Then, as if by magic, with the same unerring aim which 
sent a bullet into the heart of a fleeing deer or a flying 
eagle, the leaden messenger of death crushed through the 
skull of Mack, and a dead man lay on the ground, and 
the terrible Mack-Stokes feud had begun. 

Stokes walked forward and merely gave a glance at 
the dead man. He knew well where he had sent that 
bullet — as well as if he had measured it — and, going to 
the end of the woods, he called Mack’s twelve-year-old 
son, and, in a gentle and calm voice, told him that his 


GOING TO HIS DEATH 21 

father was dead in the woods “ jess back o’ my stable 
lot.” 

Stokes felt sure that every relative, even to cousins of 
the third degree and their connections, would be on the 
warpath as soon as the news of Mack’s death could reach 
then\ and that he could not be in too great haste in 
summoning his friends and supporters. His first thought 
was of Pete Finley, who, for all the reasons moving a 
mountain clansman, was the strongest among the Stokes 
party. 

Pete received notice of what had happened, and with 
it a call to come to the meeting place in the rocks back of 
Smith’s spring at “ sun-up ” the next morning. What 
emotions stirred his soul! Though, like himself, they 
were deep and strong, they were so hidden that no one 
knew of them but himself. He did not tell his wife, as he 
said to himself, “ She’ll fin’ it all out soon ’nough, an’ 
tuh-morrer’s her wash-day anyhow, an’ she hez troubles 
enough to try her temper ’ithout anything else.*” 

The rapid walk down the mountain had made Pete 
thirsty, and, being near a spring, he concluded to cross 
the creek and get a drink before clambering over the rocks 
to the place of meeting. Several mountain paths crossed 
at or near this spring, so that, at such a time as the pres- 
ent, it was a dangerous spot for either of the opposing 
factions. 

Tom Mack, the brother of the slain man, had to pass 
that way, or else go a long distance round to reach his 


22 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

brother’s home. As he came near, riding on horseback, 
it occurred to him to dismount, tie his horse, and look out 
for some of the “ Stokes gang,” as he .phrased it, since 
he was sure that most of them would pass along some of 
the converging paths to get to Stokes’ farm. 

Mountain men can tell you within a few feet of where 
a deer will cross a path, or run along a ridge, and they 
never fail in taking a stand in the right place to cover the 
deer with their guns. This knowledge, or instinct, if you 
wish to call it such, was used this morning with fatal 
effect upon Pete Finley. 

Within easy range, from behind a tree. Mack saw Pete 
stand his gun ’against a tree, go over the creek, and fall 
down upon his stomach to take a drink at the spring. 
Stepping out from his ambush, for he felt himself sure of 
his man, he sent a bullet at Pete’s head. 

Either Pete thrust his head down to reach the water at 
the moment Mack pulled the trigger, or over-confidence 
betrayed Mack, so that the shot did not strike Pete to 
injure him, but only grazed the back of his head. 

As if driven by an irresistible power, Pete was upon his 
feet and rushing through the creek for his gun before 
Mack could fire again. As he put out his hand to take it 
Mack shot the second time, and the bullet went clear 
through Pete’s body, tearing its cruel way and mutilating 
both lungs. 

The brave, strong man never quailed, but, bringing 
his gun into position, opened fire on his foe. Standing 


GOING TO HIS DEATH 


23 


there, bareheaded, in the creek, knowing that he had re- 
ceived his death-wound, his comrades in the rocks above 
him could hear him praying at the top of his voice, while 
the blood was rushing from his mouth. 

Oh, God, help a poor sinner, now, an’ take him tuh 
Heaven; oh, care fer my wife an’ children,” were some 
of his petitions, emphasised with reports from his never- 
failing rifle. Every shot told upon one or other exposed 
part of the body of his enemy, and how Mack was able 
to mount his horse and get to his home, four miles away, 
has never been known. 

After firing four shots, Pete fell into the water, still 
grasping his smoking gun and praying, though now in a 
lower tone of voice. 

His clansmen, brought to the spot by the rifle reports, 
found him at the edge of the creek in the arms of his 
brother-in-law, and carried him to a plot of grass on; the 
bank, where, upon examination, they saw that he was 
dead. 

Nothing could have grieved or disconcerted the Stokes 
party more than the taking off of Pete Finley. He was 
their main dependence for counsel, and the natural leader 
to whom they looked for example and everything which 
high courage and heroic fortitude could show. They did 
not know how many of the Macks were around them in 
the woods, or what moment they themselves would be 
fired upon from ambush. 

‘‘ For’ard, men, tuh th’ woods, an’ see who’s in ’em,” 


24 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


rang out the command in clear and thrilling tones from 
Stokes, who had no time to care for the dead, at least un- 
til the living were protected. 

No other foe being found, they set out, each man car- 
rying his gun in one hand, and with the other under the 
body of their dead leader, after the manner they had 
been taught by necessity when there were no wagon 
roads. It was a rueful and melancholy task to carry the 
brave Pete home to his widow and orphan children, who, 
all unconscious of what had happened, were busy about 
the varying duties of the labour of everyday life. 


Ill 


A MOUNTAIN FUNERAL 

R ough boards cut out by hand, with a cross- 
cut saw, were put together by unskilled workmen 
so as to form some semblance to a coffin. Into this 
the body of Pete Finley was placed as tenderly as the 
uncouth, but loving and fearless men who were at the 
house could do it. 

He was dressed in a somewhat worn suit of home- 
made clothes, woven by his wife. This cloth of which 
Pete’s clothes were made was the regular “ calamanco 
it is very strong, and wears well under the constant and 
heavy use of the mountain men. The wool used in the 
filling is from black sheep, and needs no dyeing, and, 
when finished, is of a dark mixed colour, somewhat like 
that called a dark Oxford mixed.” 

Very few persons were present, as no one who was not 
on the Stokes side, in the now existing feud, would come. 
Not that the general community did not respect Pete Fin- 
ley, for he was above criticism according to the code of 
morals and religious belief which pervaded at that time. 
Even the man who killed him would have testified, any- 
where and to any person, that Pete was a truthful man, 

25 


26 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

whose word was his bond, that he was as honest as the 
day in all business affairs, and as good a neighbour as any 
man ever lived next to. If asked, Why did you way- 
lay and kill him, then, if you did not consider him a dan- 
gerous and evil man? ” he would reply:' 

“ He wuz dangerous tuh me an’ my frien’s, ’cause he’d 
hev shot me ur them ef he hed th’ chance, an’ fer th’ good 
reason that we wuz dangerous tuh him, an’ he knowed 
his only hope of livin’ wuz tuh kill us, an’ soon as he 
could. I tell y’u, stranger, Pete wuz a white man, an’ 
he died as game as a fightin’-cock ’ith his boots on.” 

Elder Morgan, who was a great friend of the family, 
was present to conduct a preliminary funeral service. 
The main full service, at which there would probably be 
three or more preachers, would be held at the Baptist 
meeting-house, a year or more after the burial. Elder 
Morgan was a preacher of what is called^ in church circles, 
the Primitive Baptist, but, in the mountains, the Iron 
Jacket, or Two-Seed Baptist Church. After the manner 
of such preachers, he did not accept pay for his services, 
but worked on his small farm during the week, and 
preached once every four weeks at each of his four “ ap- 
p’intments.” 

He, just as his people, wore homespun clothes, and 
would as soon have thought of breaking all the ten com- 
mandments, or of sprinkling a baby like a Methody 
hireling,” as of wearing a cravat or a beegum hat.” 

He was innocent of each and every accomplishment of 


A MOUNTAIN FUNERAL 


27 


civilised life; had he possessed them, he would have had 
to learn some new sermons, as his material for denuncia- 
tion would be largely gone. 

He had the physical endurance of the mountain people, 
and could stand and preach for four or five hours at a 
stretch without exhaustion, even if his people were ut- 
terly done out ’’ by listening to him. His voice, when he 
got warmed up in preaching, was pitched in the key he 
used to call his hogs home from their wanderings at dark 
to be fed. 

The mountain people believed implicitly in him and his 
teachings, and to say, “ I hearn Elder Morgan up tuh 
Salem Meetin’-house say so-and-so,’^ was a “ settler ” to 
any ambitious disputer about religious teachings. A 
friend to all men, and a man of peace, save when he was 
allotting the non-elect to their especial place in Hell, he 
had gone in and out for forty years or more among the 
mountain people without fear of man or devil, “ for was 
not he chosen from before the foundation of the world, 
and were not all his steps ordered of the Lord ? ” 

He ploughed and planted his corn, fed his stock, and, 
indeed, did all his work, however trivial, ** as unto the 
Lord, and not unto men,'^ and was a happy, respected 
man. 

When the Elder remarked, “ It’s time now tub bury 
Pete,” the wife and five children came in from the other 
room, and were seated facing the coffin, where in full 
sight of his family and friends, the superb form of this 


28 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


paragon of physical manhood lay, in all its simple and un- 
adorned splendour. 

The family and few friends occupied all the home- 
made, splint-bottomed chairs, and the men who could 
leave their posts of watching in the woods stood around 
the Elder. 

In the Elder’s hand was what remained of a little 
Testament, such as were in the long-ago sold for six 
and a quarter cents. It was without the black muslin 
back, and much thumbed, stained, and worn. It is 
doubtful if the Elder had ever seen a Bible ; if he had, he 
never alluded to it. It was evidently a difficult task to 
decipher the words, for he read very slowly a part of the 
eleventh chapter of Hebrews, stopping at the tenth verse. 
There was no singing. He offered prayer; such a mix- 
ture of denunciation and supplication, of simplicity and 
eloquence, of child-like pleading and rhapsody was like 
the peaks of the Cumberland Mountains — not to be com- 
pared to ordinary things, or measured by the rules of 
common judgment. 

This prayer, like the man who offered it, was peculiar, 
and grand because of its peculiarities. At its close, the 
sound of weeping from the family and some others was 
so loud and intensely “ heart-moving,” that the Elder 
went out and walked around the house a few times 
to allow the weeping to cease before beginning his 
sermon. 

Bruth’rin, I take me tex’ frum th’ tenth varse o’ th’ 


A MOUNTAIN FUNERAL 


29 


chapter read in y’r bearin'. ^ For he looked for a city 
which hath foundations whose builder and maker is God.' 
I nuver seen no city, an' wuz nuver near no big town. 
I wuz born an' riz right heyeh in these mount'ins; but it 
Stan's tuh reason that whar thar be so many big houses 
an' streets an' things, that it's a good place tuh them whar 
gits uset tuh it. Brother Pete hain't got uset tuh it yit, 
but as he, like y'ur 'umble sarvant, 'll take whut God 
says fer it, he'll git tuh like it after a while, an' be happy 
fer ever. 

“ This city Paul's talkin' 'bout hez a foundation, 
which means that it air in th' mount'ins, an' air on th* 
rocks. We likes th' rocks, an' in all these mount'ins whar 
I goes, I sees all th' houses a-settin' on rocks, which 
shows that the people wants somethin' which 'll stan'. Th' 
city whar Brother Pete hez gone is tuh stan' till we all 
gits thar, an' th' foundation is nuver tuh crack nur move 
one bar's breath ferever. So, y'u see, me bruth'rin, it's 
shore. 

“ Then me tex' says : God built an' made it. This 
shows us that it's built jest right, an' that not one 
thin's left out whut ought tuh go in it. God is th' bes' 
workman thar is anywhar, ur He couldn't ha' made these 
mount'ins so fit fer us an' our folks as He did. I takes 
me idears o’ all these thin's, which I can't see, an' 'bout 
which I knows nothin' of meself, outen this heyeh ol' 
book, which I hoi's in me hand. 

“ Now, this book tells me God made th' city Pete's gone 


30 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

tuh, an’ whar we all air goin’, an’ that it hez a founda- 
tion. What more do y’u all ast fer ? Now, this city’s bin 
up thar fer a long time, as Abraham, who’s bin dead an’ 
gone fer many years, wuz a-lookin’ fer it when he wuz in 
th' mount’ins, an’ seen arter his cattle an’ sheep. 

Pete’s foun’ that city, an’ so’ll we all fin' it, fer God’s 
made it fer us. That’s ’nough said fer any man. 

Bruth’rin, you knows that brother Pete wuz a man 
whut could be depended on tuh do jest whut he thought 
wuz right all th’ time, an’ every whar. When I thinks that 
I shall nuver hear him raise th’ tune when I lines out th’ 
hymn at meetin’, an’ shan’t see him agin ’til I gits tuh 
th’ city whar he is, I can hardly speak tuh y’u. I hain’t 
got long tuh stay heyeh ’ith y’u bruth’rin an’ I lifts me 
voice heyeh ’mongst y’u fer peace. 

“ I knows God orders all thin’s, an’ that a man hez tuh 
do whut God says, but sometimes, we gits in a hurry an’ 
goes off afore God says nothin’ ’bout whut we air tuh 
do. A man ought tuh wait ’til he’s sartain that it’s God 
who is a-talkin’ tuh him, an’ knows ’nough ’bout God’s 
voice tuh know who t’s a-speakin’ ’fore he begins tuh do 
somethin’. That’s good ol’ Baptis’ doctrine, fer a man 
ought to be as smart as a hog an’ know his own master’s 
call, an’ not be goin’ arter every sound he hears in th’ 
woods. 

‘‘ Y’u knows th’ ol’ Elder hain’t afeered o’ any o’ y’u, 
an’ this day, while Pm a-lookin’ thar at Pete, a-layin’ in 
his coffin an’ a-seein’ an’ a-hearin’ on his weepin’ wife an’ 


31 


A MOUNTAIN FUNERAL 

children, I says— do y’u heyeh it?— that all this killin’ 
oughter stop, an’ that right short off.” 

The Elder closed up the end of every sentence in a high- 
pitched voice, which could be heard a quarter of a mile 
or further, in a sing-song, vibrant tone, which was some- 
what melodious, and with a ou, ou ah,” which, for 
some mysterious reason, seemed to affect and move 
everyone present. 

He went on for a long time, and in much the same way, 
as is indicated by this extract from his '' sarment,” and, 
by the time he had finished, all were convulsed with 
grief. 

When the farewells were over, the lid was fastened 
with long nails and a rusty hatchet. The last nail having 
been driven home, the men lifted the coffin on boards, 
put under it after the fashion of hand-spikes at log- 
rollings, and, in slow and solemn manner, walked to the 
graveyard, headed by the Elder and the family. 

The graveyard was upon a bench on the mountain- 
side, and not enclosed in any way. The separate graves 
were surrounded by ordinary fence rails, split from 
the nearby chestnut trees. Four rails were first put down 
to form a pen, and then enough more placed upon these 
for a cover. Around and through the openings between, 
blackberry vines had grown for years. These vines were 
never cut, except when someone was buried in the place, 
and then only enough to permit the grave to be dug. 
The earth was a stiff, yellow clay, in which much gravel 


32 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

was mixed. As it was a matter of considerable toil to 
dig the grave, it was only about three feet deep, and there 
was little room for the coffin. 

The coffin was lowered into the grave, with the plough- 
lines used on the farm by Pete and his boys, and, after it 
had been filled up by the men, each in his turn, throwing 
in the earth, and a mound had been shaped with the 
shovels, another prayer was offered by the Elder, and 
the people slowly returned to the house. 

Pete was laid by the side of his father, who had, like 
himself, died with his boots on; and, in that same grave- 
yard, there lay twenty-six men from that family and its 
connections, who had been shot in feud warfare. 

As the mother went with faltering steps from the grave- 
side to her home, the youngest of her sons, a lad of twelve 
years of age, said to her, speaking for himself and his 
elder brother, ‘‘ Mam, nuver y’u min’. I’ll soon be old 
’nough tuh take dad’s place, an’ I won’t nuver rest fer one 
day ’til Mack’s killed.” 

The mother only spoke with her eyes, but there was 
no disapproval in them for this child’s bloody deter- 
mination. 


IV 


FEUDISTS IN COUNCIL 

T he old Elder, with fatherly tenderness which was 
not often seen where the conditions of human life 
were such as to put a mask over the thoughts and 
emotions of the heart, bade the widow and children good- 
bye, and then in the yard — we call it so by courtesy, as the 
cabin seemed, from a little distance, to be stuck on the 
mountain side as if it were part of it — spoke in a low 
tone with the men, and, with a hearty grip of the hand, 
parted from them. It was to him a sad leave-taking, for 
he knew not who among them might soon be awaiting the 
same service from him, meeting death by the bullet of an 
enemy, as had the one they had just buried. 

By signs, known to them alone, and a few added words, 
the time and place for meeting to form plans was made 
known to all of the men present, so that the council in- 
terrupted by the killing of Pete Finley might be con- 
cluded as soon as possible. 

They knew that when they left the Finley place, the 
property and the women and children would be perfectly 
safe, for mountain men warred only against men, and 
they would no^take from women and children even a 

33 


34 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


morsel of food, though in the pangs of hunger. Indeed, 
if necessity called for it, they would deny themselves to 
supply the families of the very men they were fighting. 

Back of, or rather above the Finley place, where there 
were no paths, and just enough earth amid the rocks for 
the laurel to grow and give the prospect the appearance 
of a patch of green, and in a situation where no man could 
come within a mile of it without being seen by the eagle- 
eyed watchers, the sore-hearted, though firm and con- 
stant, partisans of the Stokes faction, the day after the 
funeral, seated themselves upon the rocks to consult as to 
the future. 

There had been no election of a man to preside, for 
now that Pete Finley was gone, Stokes was by common 
consent the leader. The conference was slow in be- 
ginning, as those self-contained men were cut to the great 
depths of their being, and were thinking more of what 
had just happened than what was to come, and, though 
no man will ever say it, some were feeling hurt that 
Stokes did not try some other way with Mack before 
shooting his hogs. They were not troubled about Mack's 
being killed — that was in accord with their ideas of right 
when once the fight was on — ^but what led to the killing 
was what troubled them. 

“Well, now, whut’s tuh be done?" said a man who 
appeared to be at least sixty-five years of age. “ Soon as 
Mack's kivered in th' yearth, th' guns '11 be pinted 
way, let me tell ye.” 


our 


FEUDISTS IN COUNCIL 


35 


“ Uncle Harve/' Stokes said, tell us whut y'u bin 
thinkin’ ’bout. Y’u’ve seen more o’ these doin’s than any 
o’ us. Now open y’u head an’ let’s heyeh.” 

Uncle Harve looked all round, as if he felt the im- 
portance of what he was going to say, and, after sundry 
indescribable movements of his person, replied : ‘‘ Y’u 

knows I’ve fit in these heyeh fights fer nigh on tuh fifty 
year, an’ I bin hit a good many times, an’ mos’ on ’em 
whut hit me air under an’ not atop o’ th’ yearth, 
an’ I tells ye that every one o’ them 'ar fights hed tuh be 
settled by the folk on both sides gittin’ so much o’ it that 
they wuz willin’ to quit. None o’ them ’ar fights wuz 
stopped by one side bein’ whipped, an’ this un’s goin’ tuh 
be jest like ’em. Ten ur a dozen, more nur less, o’ y’u 
settin’ heyeh ’s a-goin’ tuh be killed, an’ as many — very 
likely more — on t’other side, an’ then we’ll quit an’ go 
home tuh think a good deal an’ say leetle. I’m mighty 
glad my Tom ain’t heyeh, but’s gone tuh the low country. 

“ I hain’t got long tuh live heyeh, but some o’ ye’s 
hardly outen yer teens, an’ I wants y’r tuh live many 
ye’rs an’ git on well, an’ not be food fer powder an’ shot 
’fore y’r hardly men. 

** I say, git th’ ol’ Elder tuh see ef he can’t settle this 
thing ’fore it gits any worse.” 

A young man who had never been in a feud spoke up : 

Now, jest listen at Uncle Harve, wantin’ on us tuh let 
them Macks know we’s afeered on ’em. I say, let’s go 
right at ’em whar we kin fin’ ’em, right now, an’ show 


36 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


’em whut’s whut. They must all be killed ur druv out 
o’ th’ country tuh Tennessee, ur somewhar’s else, an’ 
then we kin hev peace, an’ not afore.” 

“ See heyeh, youngster, air ye tryin’ to larn y’r mammie 
tuh milk ducks? When I hearn y’u, I wondered ef I 
beared a man ur ef it were a cabbage-head busted. Kill- 
in’s a game two can play at, an’ it makes a heap o’ differ 
who’s bein’ druv. Thar hain’t no sense in killin’, ’sides 
hidin’ by day, an’ layin’ out o’ nights, a-starvin’ while y’r 
watchin’, ’less y’r kin settle somethin’ so it ’ll stay set- 
tled.” 

The young man, John Hart, did not take his rebuke 
kindly; he grew very red in the face and fingered his 
rifle, but he knew by instinct, and saw in a hasty glance 
at the faces of the men around him, that he would have 
to submit to what Uncle Harve said, and that any great 
show of temper, or act of violence, would bring upon 
him trouble with all now present. 

Stokes spoke rather hurriedly, with a low voice, which 
showed his agitation : “ How’s th’ Elder tuh settle it. I’d 
like tuh know? They’d think we wuz sick o’ the hull 
thing, an’ bein’ mad all through an’ through at one o’ 
th’ Macks a-layin’ in th’ ground an’ ’nother nigh dead, 
they’ll be arter us ’ith all that’s in ’em at onct. I say, 
let’s go tuh-night an’ git ’round th’ place whar Mack is, 
an’ ef he hain’t dead, make him dead, an’ then send ’em 
all word that we’ll leave th’ rest on ’em alive ef they’ll git 
out o’ heyeh in thirty days.” 


37 


FEUDISTS IN COUNCIL 

“ I hain’t goin’ fer tuh toch no hurt man, when he's 
a-waitin' fer th' death angel tuh cum fer him. Fm goin' 
tuh be with ye 'til I gits killed in fightin' men whar kin 
shift fer tharselves, but y'u jest count me out when y'u 
goes tuh kill men who hez got the dose and jess a- waitin' 
fer it tuh finish 'em," said Bill Leach, one who was 
known by all to be as brave as any man who ever trod the 
mountains. 

Tom Smith then spoke, and said: “Fm ready to quit 
ef them's hed 'nuff, but I hain't th' man tuh ast 'em tuh 
let me quit. I don’t know as how I want tuh kill any 
man, an' I don't hanker arter gittin’ killed meself, though 
I'm a deep-water Baptis' an' dyed in th' wool. We’s 
nearly all members o' meetin’, an' wantin’ tuh git tuh that 
city whar Pete's gone, as th' ol’ Elder told us, but we 
hain’t in no great hurry tuh go thar right straight off 
an' see Pete, much store as we sot by him. Let 'em come 
an' ast us tuh quit, an' Fm ready tuh go home an' look 
arter my craps an' stay 'ith Susan an' th’ leetle ones a 
spell, but I won't be th' fust tuh cry out — no, not by a 
long shot ! ” 

Percy Miller cleared his throat and spoke his mind 
after this manner : Y'u all knows I've most as many 

o' my folks on yander side as on this, an’ that Fm heyeh 
tuh fight agin my own flesh an' blood. Ef anybody’s 
afeered Fm not a-goin' tuh do th’ right thing, let him tell 
me so, fer I want tuh hear him say it, ef he thinks it. I 
thinks as much o' some of 'em over yander as I thinks o* 


38 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

meself, an’ hit makes me feel mighty quare tuh think o’ 
shootin’ em. 

“ There’s Bill Scruggs, him an’ me messed ’ith one 
anuther fer nigh on four year when we fit in th’ war. We 
slep’ under th’ same blanket, eat outen th’ same platter, an’ 
marched side by side over th’ mount’ins an’ down through 
Georgi’, ’ith Uncle Billy Sherman. 

“ I nussed him like a baby, an’ when a minnie-ball went 
through me leg at th’ battle o’ Atlanta, he jest took me 
on his back an’ broke ranks fer th’ fust an’ only time in his 
life, an’ toted me back tuh th’ horspital, an’ saved me tuh 
be heyeh now. When we wuz ’bout worn out an’ a’mos’ 
dead frum marchin’ an’ fightin’ side by side in th’ war, we 
cum home tuhgether, an’ when we shook ban’s jest afore 
we parted — he goin’ up and I down th’ crick tuh our 
homes — I sed, * Bill, we’s more ’an bruthers, though we’s 
no blood kin, an’ we hev jest naturally tuh stan’ by one 
’nuther as long as we lives.’ 

“Bill shed th’ fust tears I uver seen in his eyes, an’ 
said, ‘ Sure ’nuff, Percy, it’s a go fer uver an’ uver.’ An* 
when me baby were took, a’ then me ol’ woman. Bill wuz 
with me night an’ day, ’til he los’ most o’ his craps 
’tendin’ tuh me. 

“ Now he’s over yander, an’ I’m heyeh. We hev put 
our guns tuh our shoulders many a time an’ pinted an’ 
fired ’em at th’ enemy in front o’ us, an’ now tuh hev ter 
fire ’em at one ’nuther is jes’ a lettle beyond anything I 
uver ’spected tuh meet.” 


FEUDISTS IN COUNCIL 


39 


This speech made a deep impression upon all the men. 
They were certain they could trust the speaker '' up to 
the hilt/' and that he would be with them, be the 
consequences what they might; and yet they had some 
idea of what it meant to him to aim and fire his gun 
at Bill Scruggs, and it was in their nature to feel for 
him. 

Uncle Harve now spoke again: Percy, I al’ays 

knowed y'u wuz a man, an' I knows Bill feels an’ thinks 
’bout y’u as y’u thinks ’bout him, fer he’s tol’ me so many 
a time, when we bin fishin’ tuhgether. 

I don’t see how we’ll be any nearer quittin’ arter y’u 
shoots Bill ur Bill shoots y’u than we now is, an’ I don’t 
see how anybody ’ll think more ur less o’ y’u nur him arter 
one kills th’ tother, er both on ye gits killed, fer that 
matter. Y’u air both members o’ th’ Elder’s meetin’, an’ 
I seen him put y’u both under th’ water in th’ crick, one 
right arter th’ tother. 

“ Y’u al’ays talks tuhgether ’fore meetin’ takes in, an’ 
then goes home ’ith one ’nother arterwards — first ’ith one, 
an’ then th’ tother. Th’ boys an’ gals ’ould stan’ ’roun’ 
an’ pint y’u out tuh newcomers, an’ say, ‘ Them old 
cronies fit in th’ war tuhgether, an’ they’s more than 
brothers, they can’t keep ’way from one ’nother, they loves 
so hard.’ 

‘'When Bill took th’ bread at sacrament, y’u al’ays 
took th’ wine an’ handed it tuh me an’ th’ others, arter 
th’ ol’ Elder said his say over ’em, an’ now y’u mus’ hunt 


40 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


one ’nother like varmint, an’ try tuh see which one ’ll kill 
his brother fust. 

‘‘ Y’u knows how many men I’ve killed, an’ how short 
my time’s heyeh now, an’ I say that no good’s goin’ tuh 
cum o’ whut we’re doin’, an’ I think we ought tuh stop 
it some way.” 

Stokes said, “ There’s no use talkin’ that a-way. Th’ 
Macks ’ll hear tuh nothin’ but revengin’, an’ I don’t see 
how I could hev done anythin’ but whut I did. 

I’d a good fence, an’ it turned everybody’s stock 
’cept Mack’s hogs. That old sow o’ hisen would dive 
under the water-gap whar th’ fence crossed th’ crick, an’ 
thar wa’n’t no fence built by man that could turn hogs 
trained by Mack tuh git thar own livin’ off th’ neighbours 
by their wits. I couldn’t stand by an’ see all my work 
go fer nothin’, an’ my family starve, jest tuh feed ras- 
cally hogs, whut hurt twenty times more co’n as they’d 
eat. 

“ This thin’ hez bin goin’ on fer years, an’ I hain’t no 
one tuh buy my farm, an’ no money tuh move on, ’less I 
kin sell it, even ef I’d some place tuh go tuh, which I 
hain’t. 

“ When I’d speak tuh Mack, arter drivin’ his hogs out 
o’ th’ co’n, he wa’n’t only not willin’ to cum ’ith me an’ 
see whut hurt hed bin done by them hogs, but he’d insult 
me by jeerin’ me ’bout my poor fencin’, when he knowed 
it were a mighty sight better ’an any on his place, an’ on 
any in most o’ these mount’ins. He’s bin seen a-towin’ 


FEUDISTS IN COUNCIL 41 

them hogs to my fence and then break a rail, so as tuh 
make a weak place they’d break through.” 

The young man put down by Uncle Harve now spoke 
again, saying : I don’t blame Stokes. Th’ only wonder 
air he’s stood it so long as he did. Hogs must hev 
somethin’ tuh eat, an’ they’ll hunt fer hit an’ break 
through any fence rather ’an starve tuh death. Mack 
nuver gin his hogs a mouthful, ’cept when fattenin’ ’em 
fer killin’ time in th’ winter. 

He knowed what trouble wuz a-bein’ made by ’em, an’ 
hit kind o’ seemed tuh please him. I’m mighty sorry fer 
th* hogs, but he ought tuh bin shot long ago. He were o’ 
th’ mean kin’, an’ cum o’ th’ mean kin’, an’ he’s lef’ trouble 
an’ meanness an’ death behin’ him, o’ which he were th’ 
maker.” 

Uncle Harve replied, “ I’m sure that when I were a 
young man, I wouldn’t hev stood nothin’ like as much 
as Stokes did. I’d a flared up like a snare pole, an’ done 
mischief long ago, but now me blood’s colder, I sees 
things different. 

It’s a pity we can’t see afore us when we’re young, 
an’ not lay by, in our givin’ way tuh our temper, a whole 
body full o’ sorrows tuh make theirselves felt by th’ 
pains they keep on givin’ us ’til we die. 

“ Ef me foresights hed bin as clear as me hindersights, 
I wouldn’t be heyeh tuh-day consultin’ how tuh git out o’ 
trouble, an’ plannin’ th’ bes’ an’ quickes’ way tuh be a- 
killin’ me neighbours. An’ y’u wouldn’t be heyeh nuther. 


42 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

but y’u’d be 'ith y’r families, an’ doin’ y’r work tub 
home. 

“ This thin’s got tuh stop soon, fer ’ith our Win- 
chesters an’ other guns, which air so much better an’ th’ 
old long-barrelled rifles o’ me young days, an’ so much 
surer tuh hit the mark, every man on us may be killed 
in a week’s time. 

“ I’ve ’nough lives put down tuh me account now, an’ 
I wants some little time tuh git ready fer meetin’ some o’ 
th’ good men I’ve sent on afore me tuh t’other world. 
Now let’s cool off an’ git th’ ol’ Elder tuh see th’ men on 
t’other side. 

As both sides hez los’ a man, we kin all go intuh th* 
repentin’ business right away, an’ ef we’ll keep at it fer a 
good long spell, thar’ll be somethin’ tuh live fer ’roun* 
heyeh by-an’-by.” 

“ Y’u’s gittin’ chicken-hearted. Uncle Harve. Whut 
becomes o’ me in th^ cou’t-house when I’m tried fer killin’ 
Mack? I don’t want no sheriff, nur jedge, nur jail, nur 
rope in my takin’-off. No chokin’ fer me! Let me hev 
th’ lead all th’ time fust.” 

Oh, y’u’ll nuver be teched by th’ law,” Uncle Harve 
said. “ Them law officers ’ll be mighty particular tuh 
pass by on t’other side when they sees y’u, an’ ef some 
brash foolhardy one takes y’u up, the jury ’ll be shore 
tuh bring y’u in ’ot guilty. 

Mack hed cum on y’r stable lot, a-huntin* fer y’u an’ 
a-tryin’ th’ best he knowed how tuh kill y’u. All y’u did 


FEUDISTS IN COUNCIL 


43 


were tuh be jest a minit too quick fer him, an’ he turned 
up his toes, ’stead o’ y’u. Ef that hain’t self-defence in 
th’ law, ’tis ’ith a Kentucky jury, an’ al’ays will be. Th’ 
boot’s on t’other foot, fer Pete wa’n’t a-lookin’ fer t’other 
Mack, fer ef he hed ’a’ bin, he’d be whar Stokes is now — 
at th’ head o’ this heydi side. 

To be shore. Mack knowed that he would ’a’ bin in a 
short time, an’ took his chance in takin’ * time by th’ fore- 
lock.’ ” 

It seemed from the impression Uncle Harve had made 
that the old Elder would be called upon to try and make 
peace, when a man on the lookout came in and reported 
that a gal was runnin’ up the mount’in like a deer, and 
she looked like Pete Finley’s Sis.” It was indeed Sis, 
who, in leaping over rocks and logs, and rushing through 
briers, had torn, in her haste, both her coarse, homespun 
clothing and her skin. 

She reached the outskirts of the laurel thicket, and as 
soon as she gained her breath gave a whistle, which was 
answered by a man on the watch. Getting the direction, 
she crashed through the thicket, and soon stood before 
the men in council. 

“ Bill an’ Sher Miller hev done been shot by them 
Macks. They’s both on ’em lyin’ dead at th’ head o’ th’ 
holler, below our house. Babe an’ me wuz down that 
way tendin’ th’ cows, an’ we beared two shots, an’ when 
we run closer an’ looked we seen them two boys lyin’ 
thar dead.” 


44 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


As the torn and exhausted girl blurted out in snatches 
this awful news all looked at Percy Miller, who was so 
stunned that he was not conscious of what happened 
around him for some minutes. When he was able to 
move again, he spake no word, he looked into no man’s 
face, but those who saw him grasp his rifle with his 
sinewy right hand, which had never failed him, and pat it, 
as if he was telling it how much he depended on it for 
vengeance, felt that all hope of peace was gone, and that 
blood would flow in many little rivulets from human 
veins for a long time in the Cumberland Mountains. 

Uncle Harve’s face became almost the hue of his snow- 
white hair, and then, after a moment, went red like 
crimson. He stood out upon a ledge of rock with his 
head above the surrounding laurel, and, pointing to the 
valley below and beyond it, said, in a firm and full voice, 
which had acquired the fibre of battle : “ Men, down thar 
are folks jes’ a- waitin’ fer me to kill ’em.” 

Not in ranks, as an army, but near enough almost to 
touch each other, the men moved on down the mountains, 
each having a cast upon his face and a gleam in his eye 
that spoke to all who looked upon them, and to God, of 
spirits which kindness could soften and mould to acts 
of love, but which no tempest could turn, or danger 
daunt. 

There in the ravine they came upon the bodies of Percy 
Miller’s twin boys, only eighteen years of age. It was 
plain that Bill had died instantly from a bullet through his 


FEUDISTS IN COUNCIL 


45 


heart, and that Sher had lived just long enough to crawl 
to his brother, and to fail in the attempt he made to put 
his arms around him. Their father did not want them 
to go with him, and had gone otf without giving them 
commands, thinking that they would stay with their step- 
mother. He had not realised that they were now men 
in longings and ambition, and not boys. 

When they heard of the killing of Pete Finley, and 
found that their father was gone, the boys had seized 
their guns and set out for Pete's farm to find their father. 
It did not occur to them to be on their guard, and as they 
were walking up the ravine with their guns upon their 
shoulders, they were sent into eternity by men they did 
not see. 


V 


BILL SCRUGGS IN AGONY 

« >^0'ME right away, Bill, y’r wanted mighty bad 

t j down at Mack's. The devil’s loose thar this 
minit. Stokes hez killed Mack,” was the call 
which came to Scruggs a few hours after Mack was 
shot. 

Nothing could have been more unwelcome than this call. 
It meant to Scruggs much that was against his principles, 
and that was contrary to his ideas of the Christian 
religion; and yet, struggle as he might, he felt forced 
to heed the call and go at once. Mack was his cousin, 
and also his brother, as they had married sisters, and so 
he was on that side in the feud which had again broken 
out. 

He could not quit the country, thus leaving all he had 
of worldly substance behind him; and brave as he had 
been on many battlefields, he did not have enough moral 
courage to face the stigma of being a coward, and what 
men called the dishonour of not standing up, even 
unto death, for one’s own people when they were in a 
fight. 

The traditions of several generations held him, though 

46 


BILL SCRUGGS IN AGONY 47 


he struggled to get free, when the better things which 
were in him called him to break loose and defy everything 
and every man, if needful, for the sake of the right. He 
did not cease to fight himself, neither did he approve of 
what he was doing, or justify the feud in spirit or in act; 
yet he went at the call, and in a dejected and half-hearted 
way made preparations to take the lives of his brethren 
in the church and his nearest neighbours. 

Scruggs was one of the best men in the community. 
He was what was called a “ good provider for his 
family; a sober, industrious, and scrupulously honest 
man, and was the first choice for deacon in the Salem 
Primitive Baptist church, of which he had been a member 
since his early manhood ; yet, such was and is the power 
of a man’s surroundings, that he is often bound hand 
and foot by subjecting chains of evil, and is a captive 
to the devil to do his work and fight his battles. 

As with heavy heart and bowed head Scruggs moved 
to take a place among those with whom he was allied, 
he thought of Percy Miller, his brother deacon, and his 
most trusted and intimate friend and confidant. He 
knew that Miller must be at Pete Finley’s, and that, like 
himself, he was bound to fight for his side in the con- 
flict. 

He did not think of Miller’s twin boys, one of whom 
bore his name, chosen to commemorate a comradeship 
of many years, which had endured every strain that un- 
toward circumstances could put upon it, as being old 


48 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


enough to be in this fight. He thought of dear oF 
Percy/' as he called him, and of the possibilities of meet- 
ing him in deadly combat. How could he shoot him, he 
asked, and clear, certain, and distinct, without an in- 
stant’s hesitation, came the reply, I’ll die fust. He 
kin kill me, ef he wants to, but I’ll nuver turn my gun 
agin’ him. He’s as brave an’ true a man as th’ good an’ 
mighty God ever made, an’ I’ll keep a prayin’ that God 
’ll keep him safe till th’ end.” 

Scruggs thought and talked thus with himself very 
often, and though he was present and took part in the 
burial of Mack — there was no funeral — and in the con- 
sultation of the Macks, he wore a careworn counte-' 
nance, and showed in every possible way that he was not a 
fanatical warrior, rampant for blood, but that his con- 
science was outraged at what he was doing, and at the 
company he was keeping. 

“ Bill an’ Sher Miller’s jest bin killed in th’ holler near 
Pete Finley’s cow-pasture,” he heard a man shout, as he 
was sitting on a log with his head in his hands, thinking 
of and counting his troubles. 

“My God! Whut’s that y’r sayin’?” he cried, as he 
sprang to his feet and glared around with wild and fiery 
eyes. Then going straight to the man who had brought 
the news, he seized him with his right hand by the 
shoulder with a grip which bruised the flesh and caused 
the man to wince and say, “ Let go. Bill, y’u’re a-hurtin’ 
me. I didn’t do it, an’ I’ll tell y’u all I knows. 


BILL SCRUGGS IN AGONY 49 


“ I was a-standin’ guard over yander, ^cross th’ field in 
th’ woods, an’ beared two rifle-shots, an’ in a lettle while 
Clem Jones and Ham Simms cum outen th’ woods, an’, 
cumin’ up tuh me, said : ^ Two on ’em’s gone, an’ as 

likely boys as ever walked in this neck o’ woods.’ ' Who 
be they? ’ says I, an’ they says, ‘ Bill an’ Sher Miller. 
They wuz a walkin’ mighty fas’ an’ firm like ’ith thar 
guns on thar shoulders towards Pete Finley’s house, an’ 
looked as ef they wuz wantin’ tuh fin’ some on us tuh 
kill, an’ so we jes’ up an’ sent ’em an answer in th’ shape 
o’ lead that ’ll do’ em fer all time an’ ’temity.’ ” 

The worst enemy Bill Scruggs had, would have pitied 
him, if he could have seen him now. His face became of 
that ashy paleness which betokens heart trouble, and he 
shook as with ague. His gun fell from his hand, which 
meant to him, and men in that county like him, a com- 
plete collapse. In a dazed and helpless kind of way, 
after standing by a tree and supporting himself against 
it for a time, he asked in a voice which told that his 
mouth was dry and parched, Whar’s Glem an’ Ham ? ” 
As he asked this, he reached for his gun, which proved 
that his mind had begun to work again, and that he was 
soon to become dangerous. 

Don’t know, — last I seen on ’em they wuz goin’ back 
tuh th’ cove somewhar,” said a man who at the same time 
rapidly and quietly departed to tell Jones and Simms to be 
careful to keep away until Bill Scruggs cooled off and 
came tuh hisself.” 


50 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Scruggs searched every point of the compass to see if 
he could find these men, and, failing in his search, started i 
towards the place where the boys had been killed. ; 

Several men at once gathered around him, and some ; 
went in front of him, one saying, “ Whar y’r goin’. Bill ? 
Y’u mustn’t go over than Y’u’ll be shot afore y’u cross I 
th’ crick, an’ whut good ’ll that do y’u er us ? We’re all j 
mighty sorry them boys is dead, an’ we knows y’r sot j 
great store by ’em, but it can’t be helped now, an’ it ’ll 
hurt us a monstrous sight tuh hev y’u killed.” 

Scruggs seemed as if he was going to die tryingto reach 
the poor slaughtered, innocent boys and their distracted 
father, but seeing how helpless he was with so many 
desperate and determined men around him, he had to col- 
lect himself, as best he could, and struggle with his feel- 
ings, though in an agony which threatened to dethrone his 
reason. j 

As he sat there — for kind hands had led him to a log | 
and gently pushed him down upon it — ^his mind was busy | 
in thinking of the day when he “ stood up ” with Percy | 
when he was married, and how the old Elder joked with j 
him after the marriage, and said, ‘‘ Now, Bill, in th’ words 
o’ Scripter, ‘ y’u go an’ do likewise,’ ” which injunc- j 
tion he complied with, and had his infair at Percy’s 
house. 

Then he said to those near him, “ ’Bout a year after 
Pd bin married, I remembers when, one momin’ bright 
an’ early, Percy cum tuh me while I wuz feedin’ th’ 


BILL SCRUGGS IN AGONY 51 

stock, an' 'ith a mighty beamin' face gin me a grip which 
made my good right hand ache fer a while, an' then he 
said, ' Bill, make haste an' cum home 'long 'ith me. I 
wants tuh show y'u th' purtiest sight y'u ever seed in all 
y'u born days.' I hustled him intuh our house an' gin 
him a cup o' coffee an' some bread an' bacon, an' then 
we set out 'ith a swingin' gait, which didn't let any grass 
grow under our feet, tuh Percy's old cabin. 

“ When we got thar, Percy jest took me in, an' thar 
wuz his wife a-layin' on th' bed, white as a sheet, but her 
eyes as bright an' burnin' like a true mount'in gal, an’ 
when Percy pulled down th' kiverlid, he said, ‘ Bill, ol* 
boy, lookey heyeh, won't y'u, at the purtiest sight these 
heyeh ol' mount'ins ever hed in 'em.' There wuz two red- 
faced lettle young uns, as much 'like as two black-eyed 
peas, an' frum that day tuh this un I hain't bin able tuh 
tell one from t'other. 

“ ‘ Now, Bill, one o' them lettle boys is Bill Scruggs, 
let me tell y'u, fer that ol' boy who wuz 'ith thar dad fer 
four long years, when th' war wuz goin' on, an’ who saved 
his life when he wuz a-bleedin’ tuh death on th' battle- 
field. As I can't hev two Bills, an' y'u hez al'ays tuh be 
th' fust Bill tuh me. I'll call t'other one Sherman, arter 
Uncle Billy Sherman. Y'u'd better pick out yourn. Bill, 
an' tie a red string 'roun' him somewhar, so as y'u'll 
know him, fer y'u're tuh hev fust choice in this heyeh 
family.’ 

“ How I watched them boys grow, fer as all me children 


52 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

air gals, they seemed as ef they wuz mine. Ef I got tuh 
th' meetin’-house afore Percy an’ them, I jest walked a 
piece on th’ path I knowed they wuz a-cumin’ on tuh 
meet ’em. How proud I was tuh sit on th’ same bench 
’ith Percy an’ hev them twins atween us. 

They used ter cum tuh see me, an’ run all over th’ 
place, an’ I wuz mighty glad tuh hev ’em cum, an’ I’d 
ast ’em ‘ Which is my boy, an’ which on y’u ’s old Billy 
Sherman’s?’ Th’ young uns u’d see th’ joke, an’ say, 
‘ We air both yourn. Uncle Bill, ’til y’u pick yourn out,’ 
an’ then they’d laugh ' fit tuh kill theyselves,’ an’ run 
intuh some mischief. 

“ Now y’r air tellin’ me me boys is dead, an’ y’u won’t 
let me go tuh Percy tuh talk tuh him. Y’u keep a-sayin’ 
he mought shoot me on sight, ’cause I hed somethin’ tuh 
do ’ith killin’ his boys, an’ I can’t see them boys an’ 
they’ll nuver know why I’m heyeh an’ not thar. I’d go 
right in amongs’ em’ an’ hev it all over, ef y’u men ’ud 
only let me.” 

Here the stricken man ceased to speak, but continued 
soliloquising to himself. “ I feel like me head an’ heart 
wuz both a-burstin’. I air plumb full o’ trouble, an’ thar 
hain’t nuthin’ tuh make life worth livin’ any more. Oh, 
ef I could jest see th’ ^ ol’ Elder ’ an’ tell him how I’m 
a feelin’, he’d know somethin’ o’ how I fights ’ith meself, 
an’ could quote Scripter an’ pray ’ith me an’ tell me whut 
I ought tuh do. I mought slip off an’ go tuh his house 
an’ see him.” 


BILL SCRUGGS IN AGONY 53 


Thus the simple naked soul writhed in an agony which 
had found its way into every chamber of his sentient 
being, and as he writhed, his whole nature became vocal 
in pouring itself out in one great appeal for help and 
guidance into the ear of God. 


VI 


SCRUGGS VISITS THE ELDER 

S HORTLY after midnight, Bill Scruggs rose from 
the ground where he had been lying, and quietly 
moved away in the direction of home. He had been 
on the alert, like the other men, for the state of his feel- 
ings made sleep impossible. He wanted to see the old 
Elder — there was a yearning in his heart for him like 
that of a sick and confused child for its mother — and 
yet he had not definitely made up his mind to go. 

At first he walked on fearlessly in the most direct path, 
as all idea of danger to himself was crowded out of his 
mind by the thought of Bill and Sher Miller lying some- 
where — he knew not where — cold in death, and of his 
best-loved and trusted friend and brother, Percy Miller, 
mourning over them. 

He wanted to take Percy by the hand and tell him that 
he had nothing to do with the shooting of them, and, 
moreover, that he would search the world over for Clem 
Jones and Ham Simms, and never rest until they were 
killed. He longed to say to his old friend, “ Jest y’u 
leave hit all tuh me, an’ I promise y’ur that I’ll nuver rest 
’til them boys is avenged.” 


54 


SCRUGGS VISITS THE ELDER 55 

Thus he went on, his lips moving, though uttering no 
sounds and spasmodically his hand grasping his Win- 
chester, until his finger nails grew dark with the force of 
his grip. 

He was a third of the way to the old Elder’s house, 
when suddenly he heard the sound of a stone as it rolled 
down the mountain. The instinct of a mountaineer im- 
pelled him to stop and listen. What he heard convinced 
him that a man or perhaps several men were coming down 
towards the path upon which he was moving. 

His first impulse was to stay where he was and be 
killed, as he was sick of what life then was to him, and 
what it set before him for the future. But it came to 
him that he must live to see Percy and to avenge the 
slaughtered boys. 

Quickly he slipped into the laurel bushes, crouching 
like a mountain lion, and waited to see who was coming. 
Five men presently came into the path, stopped and 
whispered together, and went on in the direction from 
which he had come. He knew them all to be men of the 
other side, and men who were seeking to gain some ad- 
vantage under cover of the darkness. 

“ Shall I go back and warn the men at Mack’s, or shall 
I go on to see the old Elder? ” was what troubled him to 
decide. Arguments, pro and con, .pame readily to his 
mind. Had he been in the feud spirit of his clan, like a 
wild cat he would have hung on the steps of these men 
until he found a way to get before them and rouse his 


56 


SONS OP VENGEANCE 


comrades, whom he would lead to surprise the surprisers. 
Now his heart was too nearly broken; he could not go 
in that direction, though old habits and feelings drew him 
twice to that course. His head was in a whirl, and the 
sick child of a larger growth took his way to the cabin of 
his teacher-friend. 

What he had seen made him very careful. He feared 
other men might come along that way to join those al- 
ready gone on. As he came near the place he was seek- 
ing, his alert ear told him that another man was coming, 
and this time only one. In a moment he drew himself 
into concealment by the side of the path, and had his 
trusty gun ready for use. 

As soon as he saw in the bright starlight the figure of 
the man approaching him, he was sure it was Percy. 
** He^s bin tuh see th’ oV Elder ’bout his boys, an’ is a- 
goin’ back now. Oh, how he’s a-lookin’. He’s an ol’ 
man all at onct. Looks kind o’ dead on his feet. W’u’d 
he shoot me ef I speak tuh him, or kin I tell him whut’s 
in me heart? Oh, God, whut ought I tuh do? Yes, 
I’m a-goin’ tuh call tuh him, an’ ef he wants tuh kill me 
he kin do it. Nuthin’ on th’ yarth, nur ’mongst th’ devils 
in hell, kin make Bill Scruggs turn agin’ Percy Miller.” 

When Miller came opposite to where Bill was hiding, 
the words : '' Percy Miller, ’s that y’u? ” rang out on the 
air. Percy stopped instantly, his rifle went to his shoul- 
der, and the click of the hammer seemed to be part of the 
same movement. 


SCRUGGS VISITS THE ELDER 57 


“ Percy, don’t y’u know y’r ol’ Bill ? ” was what was 
heard next. With his gun aimed in the direction from 
which the sound came and without uttering a word or 
making another motion, Percy stood in the pose and 
appearance of incarnate vengeance. 

Bill threw his rifle down, and, parting the bushes, 
stepped out in the path right in front of the muzzle of 
Percy’s rifle. Heyeh I be, Percy. Shoot, ef y’u 
wants tuh, I hain’t wantin’ tuh live,” Bill said. Percy 
never moved for a time, then he stepped backwards 
several feet, keeping his rifle pointed at Bill’s breast. 

“ Percy, fer God’s sake shoot me, ur speak tuh me. 
I’m broken-hearted ’bout our boys, an’ y’u too, ol’ man, 
an’ I can’t stan’ this no longer. Kill me, ef y’u wants 
tuh. It ’ll be all right, an’ I knows God ’ll fergin y’u ef 
y’r do, but speak tuh me, Percy, jest onct ’fore y’u do it.” 

There was something in the way Bill pronounced the 
words ** old man ” which was fragrant of Chickamauga, 
Kenesaw Mountain, Atlanta, and other battlefields. 
There was in the sound of them memories of the march, 
the camp, and the hospital. 

Then occurred what never had been known in the 
Kentucky mountains. The gun was lowered, and the 
feudist said: ‘'Bill, I’m a ruined man, fer my heart’s 
dead. What air y’u doin’ heyeh? ” There was nothing 
hysterical about either of these men, so they did not fall 
into each others arms, but clasped right hands, and 
looked into each other’s eyes. 


\ 


58 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

“ Percy, I wants ye tuh know that I’ve hed nothin’ in 
th’ worl’ tuh do ’ith th’ killin’ o’ them boys, an’ that I’m 
boun’ tuh kill Clem Jones an’ Ham Simms, ef th’ Lord 
lets me live an’ I keeps my eyesight.” 

“Oh, Bill, Bill, don’t talk that a-way. I knows y’u 
loved them boys mos’ as much as I did, but y’ur can’t 
take my place tuh ’em. I’m camped on th’ trail o’ them 
murderers, sence the dirt’s bin over my boys, an’ no man, 
not even y’u, ol’ Bill, kin stop me ’til I see ’em dead. An’, 
Bill, I couldn't hev th’ ol’ Elder tuh preach th’ sar- 
ment fer my boys, nur hev y’u tuh put ’em in th’ groun’. 
God help me, I don’t know how I’m tuh live through it 
all.” 

“ Don’t gin up, Percy,” Bill said; “ y’u an’ me’s bin in 
many mighty tight places an’ we done cum out some way. 
God don’t make no mistakes, an’ when He gits ready. 
He takes th’ top off an’ shows us whut He meant all th’ 
time. Percy, I can’t go on ’ith this heyeh fight, an’ 
I’m on my way tuh see th’ ol’ Elder ’bout whut’s bes’ fer 
me tuh do. I can’t keep y’u an’ them boys out o’ me 
min’, an’ I can’t shoot at y’u, no how, an’ that means we 
got tuh be on th’ same side, ef thar’s any fightin’ tuh be 
done. Cum, let’s go see th’ ol’ Elder tuhgether, we air 
most thar.” 

“ No, Bill, I jest cum frum thar, an’ mus’ be in a hurry 
tuh git back tuh Pete Finley’s ’fore light. Some o’ y’ur 
folks mought shoot me ef I stays too long on th’ way. 
Oh, Bill, this air th’ worst time o’ my life. I ’most wish 


SCRUGGS VISITS THE ELDER 59 

y’uM let me die that day on th’ battlefield. Y’u knows 
how Fm a-feelin’ an’ whar we’ll meet.” 

In a moment Percy had gone down the path, and Bill 
was standing there, as if power to think or move had 
gone from him forever. After a while he went on, at 
first as a man nearly blind. When he reached the Elder’s 
cabin, he rapped on the door gently, and then listened, 
as he thought he heard the Elder’s voice. He then moved 
to the other end of the house, and by this time, as 
was the manner of the man, the Elder had raised his 
voice to a higher pitch in his earnestness. He could 
hear the words offered to God in supplication for his 
people. 

Oh, my Father, God, help th’ poor father o’ them dear 
boys. I can’t be along ’ith him, as thou knowest, but no 
feuds nur murders nur nothin’ kin drive ur keep y’u 
away. Oh, Father, use thy mighty han’ an’ stop this 
awful goin’ on tuh death an’ destuction. An’ oh bless 
poor Bill. Y’u knows an’ I knows that Bill’s in deep 
waters, ef he’s beared o’ th’ killin’ o’ them boys. Father, 
save Bill’s life, an’ keep him from killin’ anybody, an’ 
bring him tuh me fer help. My people, that y’u’ve gin 
me tuh teach an’ keep fer thee an’ bring home, air seekin’ 
tuh kill one ’other. Take hoi’ on ’em, an’ fer thine own 
name’s sake stop ’em right now.” 

His voice had risen, and his '' ou, ou ah ” was as when 
in the “ sacred desk,” as he called it. But God knew him, 
and he knew God, and God has answered ere he prayed, 


60 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


for the man he wanted was at his door seeking him, with 
a sore heart and bewildered mind. 

Bill leaned against the door, scarcely able to stand, 
and when the old man concluded his prayer with a ** ou, 
ou ah,” he rapped again, and without a thought of fear 
or ever asking a question, the Elder stepped to the door 
and opened it. 

Seeing Bill standing there, he reached out his strong 
hand, and, seizing him by the shoulder, gripped him and 
drew him into the house. “ Brother Bill, my heart 
dances afore th’ Lord at seein' y'u heyeh this night. 
Brother Percy hev jest gone. Oh, ef he’d unly stayed 
’til y’u got heyeh. But it’s all o’ God’s doin’s, an’ is 
right.” 

The Elder got an iron lamp, with a wick of old, worn 
cotton cloth, filled with the drippings from the meat fried 
for his meals, and going to the fire-place, blew a coal, 
which he had taken in the tongs, until with it he lighted 
the lamp. This done, he placed it upon an old, rickety 
table, near which Bill was seated, and seating himself, 
took a long and earnest look at him. 

Bill, Bill, y’u’re sick, an’ hev a high fever, an’ ye 
ought tuh be in bed.” 

“ No, Elder, I’m jest heart-broke, that’s all. I wants 
tuh ast y’u whut I mus’ do. I’m ’ith th’ Macks — ^ye 
knows y’u got tuh go fith y’r kin— an’ hev jest cum from 
Mack’s house tuh fin’ y’u. Ye knows that I hain’t 
afeered o’ no man, nur devil, but I can’t fight Percy 


SCRUGGS VISITS THE ELDER 61 


Miller, now he done los’ them twin boys, which wuz tuh 
me like me own childurn. Ye knows how I wanted ’em 
to marry two o’ my gals an’ cum an’ live on part o’ me 
Ian’. I’d done divided up th’ Ian’ in me own min’ an’ 
ust tuh say whum I looked on it, Heyeh’s whar Bill an’ 
Lucy’s tuh live, an’ on t’other side, over th’ branch, is 
whar Sher an’ Mary’s tuh live, an’ them an’ thar childurn 
kin meet every day at th’ spring, near whar I were tuh 
build thar cabins, that all on ’em mought hev water 
handy. 

‘‘ Now I’m all torn up in whut I’d laid out fer ’em, an’ 
I’m in a fight, which air agin’ all th’ good things y’u’s 
done tol’ me. Whut kin I do an’ be a man, an’ go in an* 
out in these parts ’ithout bein’ tol’ I’m too mean tuh stan’ 
by me family an’ me friends ? My ol’ ’oman ’ll be agin’ 
me, jest as strong as she kin be, ef I don’t stan’ ’ith her 
kinfolks, an’ I’ll hev no home tuh go tuh whar I kin be in 
peace. Oh, Elder, I can’t tell whut it all is, only I won’t 
fight oI’ Percy an’ him a-mournin’ fer his boys, let cum 
whut will.” 

“ Brother Bill,” the Elder replied, I bin a-prayin’ tuh 
my God to send y’u tuh me, an’ I promised Him tuh do a 
brother’s part by y’u when y’u cum. I beared as how 
y’u wuz in th’ wrong place, an’ I wanted tuh help y’u do 
th’ right thin’ now when y’u wuz in sich a hard place. 

** I talked fer peace in my sarment over Brother Pete 
Finley, an’ as I wuz a-comin’ home from thar, I was tol’ 
that I hed a message fer y’u. An’ now God hez sent 


62 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

y’u, Fm a-goin’ to gin it to y’u. I’ll stan’ by y’u, Bill, be 
it in life ur death, time ur ’ternity. 

“ Ef all y’r friends an’ kinfolks, even y’r wife, for- 
sakes y’u. I’m sure Jesus won’t, ef y’u’re in th’ right. 
Job’s wife wanted him tuh cuss God an’ die, an’ Jesus, 
He tol’ o’ much whut were tuh be got by them who for- 
sook houses an’ Ian’s, an’ maybe frien’s an’ them they 
loved, fer His sake an’ th’ Gospel’s. Bill, people says 
y’u’re a brave man, an’ you’ve proved it tuh be true whar- 
ever y’u’ve bin tried tuh this day. Y’u’re called tuh a 
higher sarvice an’ a harder one, in refusin’ tuh jine mis- 
guided men in takin’ vengeance on their fellowmen. 

“ Hit’s braver tuh be willin’ tuh be called a coward, 
than tuh gin intuh this wicked custom o’ revengin’ our 
selves, that mus’ be th’ promptin’s o’ th’ devil, an’ that’s 
a-desolatin’ this fine country o’ ourn, an’ hez filled our 
graveyards while it hez bin emptyin our homes. 

“ Y’u stay heyeh ’ith me, an’ no man ’ll dare tuh cum 
over my door-step tuh do y’u any harm. We two, ef no 
other don’t cum, an’ God A’mighty, ’ll stop this devil’s 
work whut is now goin’ on.” 

Bill was shown the ladder that led up into the loft, 
where he found a bed. It was now two o’clock in the 
morning. 

When daylight came, the Elder, as he was moving 
below, heard Bill talking and called to him. Receiving 
no reply, he went up the ladder to where he was lying, 
and found him in the delirium of a raging fever. He 


SCRUGGS VISITS THE ELDER 63 


was calling for his wife, and then for Percy and Percy’s 
boys, and when the Elder, touching him, asked what was 
the matter, he told him that he was on his way to see the 
old Elder, to get him to help him to do the right thing 
about Percy and his boys ; that he was all worn out with 
walking, and that he couldn’t get near, nor find the 
Elder’s home. 

‘‘ Why, Brother Bill, y’u’re at my house, an’ I’m ’ith y’u 
this minit. Don’t y’u know me ? ” Bill stared into his 
face, and wailed out, Oh, I’m in th’ woods an’ I can’t 
fin’ th’ way tuh me Elder’s.” 


VII 


THE FEUD SETTLED 

A FTER the burial of Bill and Sher Miller, the Stokes 
/a faction was compelled to stay together to repel the 

“^onslaughts of the Macks, who now moved in a 
body as much as possible. 

The man who was shot by Pete Finley, while in his 
death agonies, was now expected to get well; at least 
the doctor said that, contrary to all expectations, the man 
would not die. As the Macks could not move him out 
of the country, and were afraid to leave hini without a 
guard sufficient to protect him against the Sheriff and the 
Stokes faction, they had built a rock fort, in an almost 
inaccessible part of the region. From this place they 
moved in force suddenly, and when least expected, to 
gather supplies and to harass and injure their enemies. 

In ways which will never be explained, word would 
be carried to the men in this fort, when it was best for 
them to come out and make their raids. 

The Stokes party, being the weaker in numbers of the 
two factions, and utterly unable to make headway against 
the rock fort, were reduced to the necessity of “ sleeping 
out,’^ and being always on the watch. 

64 


THE FEUD SETTLED 


65 


No men were killed now, as neither side could charge 
upon an invisible enemy in the rocks or hidden among 
the laurels. The whole county was disturbed, and there 
was much talk of the Governor calling out the State 
Guard and arresting every man on both sides. 

While matters were in this condition, the same physi- 
cian who was attending Mack in the fort, was caring for 
Bill Scruggs, who was in a most dangerous condition 
with typhoid fever at the house of the old Elder. Biirs 
wife had come to wait upon him, and he had the best 
room— one of the two downstairs. Bill was unconscious 
and muttered most of the time about Percy Miller and 
his boys. Sometimes he raved against Clem Jones and 
Ham Simms, and wanted his rifle that he might kill 
them. 

The Doctor and Elder had many and long consulta- 
tions as to how this feud could be ended. 

One day when the Doctor came directly from the fort 
to the Elder’s, the good news was brought that he could 
and would take the Elder with him on his next visit 
to Mack, and that he would be allowed to say 
his say” about what ought to be done to stop the 
feud. 

It now became of great importance for the Stokes 
faction to know of this, and that they should be willing 
to allow the Elder to go and return. It was not thought 
that either side would shoot him, if they knew him, but 
they might stop him or perhaps he might be shot through 


66 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

mistake, if in the dim light of the woods he was taken for 
someone else. 

The Doctor, in his own way, let Uncle Harve know 
that the Elder was to go with him next time he went to 
see Mack, and though it was a bitter pill for him. Uncle 
Harve could not go against both the Doctor and the 
Elder, and contented himself by saying that the Elder 
could go anywhere he wanted to, and come back when he 
pleased, for all he cared. 

Stokes, and those nearest him, were much stirred up 
when Uncle Harve told them of this proposed visit. 

They did not distrust the Elder in any way, but they 
knew there was some meaning in his going, beyond see- 
ing the wounded Mack, as he was a Methodist and not 
in sympathy with the ideas and manners of the Primitive 
Baptists. 

“ Uncle Harve, I believe in my heart th’ ol’ Elder an* 
th* Doctor hev gone an’ put thar heads tuhgether tuh try 
an’ settle this fight.” 

“ The Elder’s bin agin’ this kin’ o’ thin’ fer a long 
time, an’ ’though th’ Doctor keeps a close mouth, 
he’s nuver gin th’ leas’ help tuh anybody, that I 
knows on, in these fights, ’cept dressin’ o’ th’ wounds.” 

'' Let ’em hev a try ef they wants tuh, an’ when they 
gits done they’ll stop, I reckon. That’s th’ way they does 
mos’ places that I knows on. While that ’ar Clem Jones 
an’ that ’ar Ham Simms is not feedin’ worms ’ith thar 
carcases, I’ve got lead jest a-waitin’ an’ a-prayin’ tuh 


THE FEUD SETTLED 


67 


th’ powder tuh send it into ’em. Doctors an’ preachers 
am mighty good in thur own places, but bad as y’u needs 
’em whan y’u’re bleedin’ tuh death, ur whan y’u’s cold 
a- wadin’ in th’ river Jurdan, they air times when they 
oughtn’t to mix up in doin’ whut don’t belong tuh ’em. 
The ol’ Elder’s kin’ as he knows how, but he had better 
stick tuh his ou, ou ah ” jest now fer a while, ef he 
wants tuh feel good an’ be a-doin’ good.” 

Yes, Uncle Harve, I’m afeered th’ two on 'em air a 
leetle off in whut they air doin’, as Percy ’ll go on ‘ in a 
gang all by hi’self,’ ef this fight ’s stopped afore his boys 
air avenged. Wall, we can’t stop th’ Doctor from goin’, 
an’, as tuh th’ Elder, I’m plumb shore he’ll not hurt us 
by goin’, as thur hain’t a single Methodis’ in ’ith us.” 

When the two old men — the Doctor was sixty-five 
years or more of age and had been practising medicine 
for over forty years in that region — entered the fort, 
they found a motley, dejected, and dirty company of men, 
clad in ragged, homespun clothes seated on stones or 
chunks of wood, or standing talking to each other. 
They, like those on the other side, wondered what had 
brought the Elder there. Surely he did not care for the 
wounded man enough to undertake to try and convert a 
shouting Methodist,” and, as for the rest of them, he 
might as well expect water to stay on a duck’s back as for 
anything he could say about his belief to stay with them. 
Then they thought he was not the sort of man to run 
after other people to try and change them, for “he 


68 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


believes that what is to be, will be, if it never comes to 
pass,’’ and if he has anything to say about it, he will tell 
it to the Lord, like the day he prayed, Oh, Lord, thou 
knowest that th’ Methody circuit- riders an’ dog-fennel 
air about tuh take all Kentucky.” 

** Bein’ as he nuver were known tuh wrong a man, 
we’ll hev tuh jest wait an’ see whut we’ll see,” one of the 
men remarked. 

Mack was lying on some straw and unable to turn him- 
self without help. He was a pitiful object, when the two 
men went into the little hut, made from bark, and covered 
with branches of trees. The Doctor examined and 
questioned him, after the manner of the old-time physi- 
cians, and astonished him by saying in his bluff though 
kindly way: 

** Well, Mack, you are going to pull through this time, 
after all. I suppose y’u weren’t bom to die from 
gun-shot wounds. You need some women about you, 
though, and a little chicken and such things. I brought 
my friend of many years along to-day to see you, and I 
hope you’ll agree to what he wants to do, and help him 
all you can. 

‘‘ You see. Mack, since I sewed you up and have kept 
you alive, I want you, when your time comes, to die in 
a bed and with your family about you to see you go.” 

** I knows th’ Elder, an’ I air ready tuh listen tuh whut 
he hez tuh say,” the wounded man answered. 

Thereupon the Elder cleared his throat, after the 


THE FEUD SETTLED 


manner of his kind, and said, “ I’ve cum tuh see 
ef thar’s any way tuh bring this heyeh fight tuh 
an en’, an’ so have peace which ’ll last in this county. 
It hain’t worth while tuh talk over whut brought 
it on, ur ’bout th’ evil that’s a-bein’ done by it. 
Whut’s needed ’s tuh stop it ’fore ’nother man’s 
killed, so every one o’ you, on both sides, kin go tuh his 
home ur peaceably leave th’ country, ef he wants tuh go. 
I’m aimin’ fer peace. This whole thin’ from beginnin’ 
tuh end air all wrong, an’ agin’ th’ teachin’s o’ Jesus an’ 
His ’postles, an’ ef we differ on many thin’s, as Baptis’s 
an’ Methodys, we ought tuh ’gree ’bout this, an’ do whut 
we kin tuh en’ all this fightin’ once an’ forever.” 

As the Elder was getting warm in the great earnest- 
ness of his soul, the Doctor plucked his sleeve to warn 
him, lest he should injure his cause and his patient at the 
same time by showing too much zeal and bringing out 
his '' ou, ou ah.” Mack looked greatly worried, and 
said simply: 

‘'Whut’s a man tuh do. I’d like tuh know? Ef y’u 
don’t fight y’u’ll be killed an’ th’ only chance y’u 
hev o’ livin’ is tuh kill th’ others fust. I don’t like this 
sort o’ thing any more ’an y’u do, an’ I’ll quit jest as soon 
as th’ rest will. Gin me th’ pledge whut I kin trust, an’ 
I’m done now. I didn’t want tuh shoot Pete, but y’u 
can’t say that Pete wouldn’t hev shot me, ef he’d ’a’ seen 
me fust. See whut he done tuh me arter he wuz as good 
as dead, an’ jedge whut kind o’ a man he wuz. 


70 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


** My brother done wrong ’bout them hogs, an’ y’u, 
Doctor, knows, as you lives near me, that I don’t do that 
a-way ’ith any ’o my stock, but I ast agin, whut’s y’u tuh 
do, when y’u’re shore o’ bein’ shot’ though y’u stays home 
an’ min’s y’ur own business, ’cause y’ur cousin ur uncle 
ur brother tuh some other man hev shot somebody? One 
side can’t go out o’ th’ country, an’ leave it tuh t’other, 
an’ be called cowards an’ vill’ans, heyeh an’ in th’ place 
they goes to. 

Yes, I ’low I’m mighty sorry fer th’ way thin’s air 
goin’ and hev hed time while on this straw — layin’ 
like a hurt wild beast in his hole — ^tuh think a good 
bit, an’ ef y’u kin settle this fight, I’m ready to help 
y’u.” 

** Will Clem Jones an’ Ham Simms go out o’ th’ coun- 
try tuh Texas, or some such like place, ef that ’ll stop it ? ” 
asked the Elder. 

Mack replied in his weak and shaking voice, I can’t 
say, not by my askin’ ’em. I hate ’em fer shootin’ them 
poor innercent boys. Percy’d hev been shore tuh hev 
sent them boys back, soon as he seen ’em, fer ef he’d 
wanted ’em in th’ fight, he wouldn’t hev left ’em to home, 
but he’d hev took ’em ’ith him. Jones an’ Simms hed no 
good sense. They should hev let those boys alone, but, 
I hain’t a-goin’ tuh drive ’em away, but mus’ stan’ by 
’em ' as long as there’s a button on any coat on our side.’ 
Ef they wants tuh go, they kin, fer I won’t be one tuh 
make ’em stay.” 


THE FEUD SETTLED 


71 


‘‘Maybe Fd better ax 'em meself,” the Elder said. 
“ They can’t stay heyeh, fer they’re too many agin’ ’em. 
Somebody ’ll be shore tuh kill ’em, ef it takes years tuh 
do it.” 

“ Be keerful, ef ye wants peace, but please y’rsel’,” 
the wounded man answered. 

“ Naw, y’u ’tend to y’r own business,” Clem Jones 
blurted out in a supercilious way, when the Elder asked 
him kindly if they would go away, saying that in his 
opinion this would stop the fight, and that in any or all 
events, it would be death to them, sooner or later, to stay 
anywhere around in that region. 

“ Whut’s that ol’ Baptis’ feller doin’ heyeh, Fd like tuh 
know, anyhow. He’s nothin’ but an old blow-hard,’^ 
Jones said to one of the older men in the fort when he 
walked away. 

“ Y’u young devil,” said one of the old men, “ ef you 
ever open y’ur head tuh me agin, Fll take y'u by th’ nape 
o’ y’ur neck an’ by th’ seat o’ y’ur breeches, an’ throw 
y’u down th’ side o’ this mount’in. I hain’t no Baptis’, 
but sich as y’u shan’t talk tuh me ’bout that ol’ man. 
He’s too good fer y’u tuh cum nigh tuh even in y’ur hell- 
desarvin’ thoughts.” 

So the Doctor and Elder left the fort much encouraged, 
and when the Elder reached home he sent a messenger 
into the laurel to find Percy and bring him to his house, 
with a guard to protect him. The messenger was suc- 
cessful, and some time after dark that evening Percy 


72 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

came, leaving a number of men in the woods around the 
place. 

He was almost as of old when the Elder approached 
him on most matters, but he was as hard as flint and 
seemingly as immovable as the mountains when the sub- 
ject of ending the fight leaving the slayers of his boys 
alive was broached. While they were talking, the Elder 
was called and told that Bill was sinking very fast, and 
probably dying. Both went at once into the other room, 
and at a glance they knew that Bill had but a few 
minutes to live. He was becoming conscious and had 
the hand of his wife in both of his and was looking into 
her face with a wondering expression, as if he was asking 
questions for which he found no answer. 

When he saw Percy, his face gleamed, and a sweet 
child-like smile came to his lips and then went over his 
face in ripples of light. He held on to his wife with one 
hand, and then reached out the other for that of Percy. 

“ Good-bye, Percy, I’ll be seein’ Bill an’ Sher in a minit. 
I’ll tell ’em y’u’re cumin’, an’ I’ll ast Jesus tub let me take 
care on ’em till y’u cum tuh look arter ’em y’ursel’.” 

He then straightened himself, and died as sweetly as 
ever babe slept upon the bosom of its mother. 

Percy held Bill’s hand when he felt its grip fail, 
bending over him for a few minutes with no sign 
but the convulsive workings of the muscles of his face. 
Then, as the oak which has withstood the shock of a 
thousand storms at last bows its proud head and goes 


THE FEUD SETTLED 


73 


down in a wild rush of helplessness, while in the embrace 
of a storm which at last masters it, so he, with broken 
and contrite heart, for the first time since his boyhood 
days, gave way to weeping, as, still holding Bill's hand, 
he fell across the bed. 

Bill Scruggs hain’t left no better man behin' him in 
this worr now that he air gone tuh a better one, Percy,” 
the Elder said in slow and solemn tones, ‘‘ an’ let's y'u an' 
me, Percy, try an’ be as good an' true as he were.” 

The bloody feud was likely to be ended now, as Percy 
had seen a new light, and his thoughts of vengeance were 
put away into Bill's grave. 


VIII 


A CONFERENCE 

T he Elder was at the door of his house to give 
cordial greeting to Uncle Harve, and others of 
his flock, whom he had invited to meet him for a 
conference as to the best means of preventing a renewal 
of the feud, so recently settled, and to devise such 
measures as would put an end to all feuds in that country. 

'' Mighty glad tuh see y’u, Harve, an’ th’ men y’u’ve 
brung ’long ’ith y’u. Come right in an’ take cheers.” 

“ Y’u axed me tuh cum. Elder,” Uncle Harve replied, 
“ an’ now we air heyeh an’ monst’ous tickled that we air 
not out in th’ lorrel a-waitin’ tuh aim our Winchesters at 
some poor soul on t’other side.” 

When all were seated the Elder said, “ I’m called tuh 
say somethin’ ’bout whut hez bin happenin’ in these 
mount’ins fer some time, brutherin. Y’u knows I’m 
boun’ tuh look out fer my flock, an’ not leave th’ gene’al 
run o’ folks ’round heyeh tuh th’ Methody preachers, 
who am heyeh tuh-day an’ gone ’fore tuh-morrow am ol’ 
nuif tuh tell y’u whut they am arter. They cums an’ 
goes so fas’ y’u can’t git thar names in y’ur noggin, an* 
they takes folks intuh th’ church so quick, an’ turns ’em 

74 


A CONFERENCE 


75 


out so soon as they takes a leetle moonshine, ur says a 
cuss word, ur sich leetle things whut th’ good Lord ^lows 
tuh us poor sinners fer His marcies’ sake, that thar is 
sich a cornin’ an’ goin’ at th’ meetin’-house, y’u can’t tell, 
when y’u looks at it, which air cumin’ in an’ which air 
goin’ out. I’m a stayer, an’ lives in this ol’ cabin an’ 
works this ol’ farm an’ bin a-preachin’ th’ true gospel 
these many years. 

I’m a-lookin’ arter my folks, an’ I wants ’em tuh do 
like they ought an’ quit killin’ one ’nother an’ live in peace 
so as they may hev plenty. Whut y’u say, Harve ? ” 

Whut y’u ax me fer ? Y’u knows I’m agin’ killin’ 
folks even when th’ bullet’s a-leavin’ me gun an’ goin’ 
straight fer a man’s vitals. But whut’s a man tuh do 
when t’other man air huntin’ on him an’ ’ll not gin him 
time tuh take a long breath when he fin’s him, afore 
sendin’ him tuh a strange country?” 

Bein’ as we air Baptis’s an’ hez tuh accep’ th’ de- 
crees o’ God A’mighty, I’m a-thinkin’ o’ havin’ a meetin’ 
’ith th’ Mack folks at ol’ Macedonia meetin’-house tuh 
see ef we can’t cum tuh some ’greement so we won’t be 
a-takin’ matters intuh our own ban’s every time some un 
can’t hoi’ hisself down. 

Can’t we do this, Harve? ” 

Maybe — but you ought tuh min’ that thar time down 
on Red Crick, when Elder Pitts hed a meetin’ o’ his flock 
— all true Baptis’s — tuh settle a fight ’cordin’ tuh th’ de- 
crees o’ God. 


76 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


“ Y'u recollec’ when one o’ th’ deacons wuz a-freein’ his 
min’ ’bout th’ tother side’s ways an’ doin’s he were sent 
to th’ floor by a bullet, an’ he finished whut he hed tuh 
say while rollin’ in th^ pains o’ death. Y’u couldn’t heer 
nothin’ but rifle-shots fer a while, an’ when th’ house were 
cl’ared of all them whut wuzn’t down wounded ur dead 
it were thought best tuh fight it out in th’ woods an’ not 
in th’ close quarters o’ a log meetin’-house. 

I, fer one, hain’t goin’ tuh go intuh no sich place ’ith 
them Macks.” 

Wall, ’tis kind o’ scary,” said the Elder, when men 
air so quick tuh pull trigger. I min’ seein’ them bullet 
holes in th’ logs o’ that thar meetin’-house, an’ th’ graves 
whur the men wuz buried on th’ hill ’bove it. 

“ But can’t you all promise tuh leave shootin’-irons tuh 
hum an’ cum peaceful like tuh meet one ’nother an’ th’ 
Lord?” 

“ Them Macks won’t cum ef y’u don’t let ’em hev thar 
guns,” said Uncle Harve. “ They’ll think it’s a trap. 
We air too hard-headed an’ bent on havin’ our own 
way tuh cum together th’ way y’r wants. 

“ I can’t think o’ no way tuh argufy ’ith ’em ’ithout 
makin’ ’em mad, an’ when I sees ’em gettin’ mad I’ll hev 
tuh shoot fust, an’ tuh th’ right place, ur stop a-talkin’ 
in this heyeh country an’ take up a-singin’ on t’other side, 
as y’r al’ays tellin’ us we air tuh do in that place whar 
all good Baptis’s whut’s bin in th’ crick ’ith y’u is a- 
goin’ when they changes homes.” 


A CONFERENCE 


77 


'' Now, Harve, we hev jest got tuh come tuh th’ end o’ 
all this killin’ o’ men, an’ now’s th’ time tuh be a-doin’ it. 

Jesus Christ stopped Peter when he got mad an’ begin 
a-cuttin’ of¥ a man’s years an’ tol’ him tuh put up his 
weepon, an’ I tells ye all, as air my duty, ye got tuh do th’ 
same thin’. 

Air th’ folks tuh keep on a-killin’ one ’nuther ’til all 
th’ men air gone ? 

“ We’ll hev tuh git th’ sisters tuh help an’ try an’ save 
thar men folks.” 

But, Elder,” Tom Pool said, th’ women air as bad 
as th’ men. • 

“ They of’en helps start th’ lightin’, an’ no gal 
’uld think o’ havin’ a man, when he hev set up tuh 
her an’ axed her, ef he wa’n’t willin’ tuh fit ’ith his people. 
Thar’s my brother’s widder, that fer twelve years kep’ on 
a-tellin’ her boy as how his dad wuz shot by Tom Logan, 
an’ a-makin’^ him promise tuh shoot Logan jest as soon 
as he war big ’nough. 

Wall, one day when th’ boy war nigh on seventeen 
year ol’, he took down his dad’s ol’ rifle an’ he cleaned an’ 
loaded hit an’ laid fer Logan in the woods, an’ shot him 
through th’ heart. Then he walks inter th’ house an’ puts 
th’ gun up on th’ rack, an’ says to his mam, ‘ Logan air 
dead. I shot him in th’ woods as he were a-goin’ to Hill’s 
Mill ’ith some co’n.’ His mam jes’ took him in her arms 
an’ cried over him, an’ begin a-praisin’ o’ him ’ith all her 
might. 


78 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

“Whut yer goin’ to do ’ith such a woman as that? 
The worst on hit air, they’s all that sort. 

“ They air all afire ’ith thar feelin’s, unly they keeps ’em 
in so y’u can’t see ’em an’ y’u thinks they’s like ice, but 
when thar sons an’ thar husbands does somethin’ lilce 
whut that boy dun y’u soon sees whut they likes.” 

At this the Elder bowed his head and groaned. 
Silence was upon the company, and no one looked into the 
eyes of his friend. 

What was passing in their minds had no result in 
bringing hopefulness. 

At last the Elder raised his head and said, “ Bruthren, 
we hev done los’ Bill and Percy, my dear deacons. 
Bill air ’ith his Lord in th’ ’ternal an’ unchangeable 
Baptis’ Church in heaven, an’ Percy’s outen his min’ 
an’ wull pass th’ bread no more among us. Sher an’ Bill 
Miller cums no more tuh th’ meetin’-house han’ in han’. 
Anuther voice sets th’ tunes an’ leads th’ singin’, ’cause 
brave an’ true Pete Finley’s air keyed tuh th’ tune o’ 
‘ Moses an’ th’ Lamb,’ an’ don’t need no tunin’-fork tuh 
git it nuther. 

“ Pete air knowed up thar by all true Baptis’s. 

I air all broke up ’bout th’ loss o’ my people, an’ this 
way o’ sendin’ ’em tuh Glory mus’ jest stop, ef thar’s any 
way I kin do it. 

“ Th’ militia can’t stop it, we mus’ jest do it oursel’s by 
bein’ strong an’ brave ’nough tuh conquer our own sel’s 
an’ submit tuh be like whut air tol’ us in th’ Bible o’ th’ 


A CONFERENCE 


79 


Baptises in th’ days when thar wuz no such things as 
Methodys an’ such like, an’ nothin’ but Baptis’s on th’ 
yearth. 

Harve, y’u hain’t afeered o’ nothin’ but yersel’. Y’r 
hev killed ’nough men in th’ war, an’ afore an’ sence. No 
man ever called y’u a coward. Be brave ’nough tuh take 
y’r Stan’ ’ith me an’ lets us stop this cruel thin’ right 
now.” 

Yes, Elder, I’m ’ith y’u, an’ ’ll do all an ol’ man kin, 
but we air so shet in by whut we hev bin ust tuh all our 
bo’n days, an’ air followin’ th’ ways our fathers went fer 
so long, we can’t change right off in a day. We’ll hev tuh 
git new ways an’ Tarn thar is somethin’ better ’an whut 
we hez bin a-doin’. 

** I wants th’ young uns that’s cornin’ on tuh be taught 
better ’an I wuz. 

“ Th’ child’en at school talks at playtime ’bout killin’ 
folks, an’ it hain’t right. 

A boy eight years ol’ tol’ his teacher t’other day that 
his dad died ’ith his boots on, an’ so did his gran’dad, an’ 
he wuz a-goin’ tuh die ’ith his boots on, like ’em, when he 
got tuh be a man. 

“ ’Long as boys talks that a-way, an’ air ’lowed tuh do 
it, y’r can’t stop th’ grown-up uns.” 

Y’u knows. Elder,” said Tom Pool, “ y’u’re preachin’ 
tuh us mos’ every Sunday when I hearn ye that we 
mus’n’t depen’ on edication, but on th’ decrees o’ God. 
I’ve beam tell o’ some schools whut hez teachers from th’ 


80 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

No’th whut teaches more ’an oum does, an’ not out th’ 
blue-backed spellin’-book. 

We’ll hev tuh git some o’ them teachers, so our boys 
an’ gals ’ll fin’ somethin’ tuh talk ’bout ’sides killin’ 
folks.” 

“ Bruthren,” said the old Elder, “ I’m done hit right in 
th’ vitals by whut y’u says, an’ maybe th’ ol’ man ’ll hev 
tuh I’arn more in his ol’ age than he ever thought on. Let 
us pray ’fore we parts: 

** O, Lord ! I hev bin blin’ an’ yit I’m a-goin’ on whut 
I knows air th’ right way. I jest touches th’ skirt o’ whut 
thou’s a-wearin’, but I’m a-goin’ tuh take a better han’- 
holt jest as soon as I kin. 

‘‘ I hev bin agin’ new-fangled no’shuns all my bo’n 
days ; but, O Lord, thou knows ef whut Tom Pool says 
air true ur not, an’ ef it air true an’ ’cordin’ ’ith whut air 
thy will tuh sen’ us them strange critters whut w’ars 
sich strange thin’s on their heads an’ won’t dip snuff an’ 
jest walks up tuh people an’ tells ’em whut air right, as 
ef they knowed everythin’, we’ll try to stan’ it ef we 
mus’. 

My ol’ heart am a-breakin’ at whut my sheep air a- 
doin’, an’ I wants to lead ’em safe through th’ mount’ins 
an’ rocks tuh th’ place whar they’ll git all they wants, 
an’ whut th’ good Lord hez fer ’em. 

Help us, O help us, an’ that right now, an’ in thy 
own way. Amen ! ” 

The Elder did not use his “ ou-ah ” in this brief prayer. 


A CONFERENCE 


81 


but when he rose and shook hands with each one as they 
left his house, it was clear, if the change had not come 
which he longed for, it was surely coming, as he would 
say, “ In th’ Lord's good time." 

Some days after this conference, the Elder, with Uncle 
Harve and Tom Pool, who was a kinsman of Harve, and 
who was on a visit to him from Yellowboro, where he 
lived, met by appointment Mack and several of his party 
to see if an agreement could be reached by which the 
danger of the feud being renewed could be removed. 
Both sides came to the place of meeting fully armed, 
and while all seemed anxious to do what was possible to 
second the idea of the Elder and carry out his purpose, 
there was such a lack of confidence on each side in the 
good intentions of the other that the Elder was forced to 
leave the matter upon which they had been consulting 
as it was when they came together, except that an added 
firmness was given to the settlement already made. 

The Elder went to his home somewhat encouraged, but 
Harve told his kinsman Pool (who was to depart on the 
next day for his home at Yellowboro), in his vigorous 
and positive manner, that “ ye jest wait till some o' 
them younglin's do some fool thin' an' it 'll all be worse 
than uver." 


IX 


AN HONEST LAWYER 
OM POOL had been at home but a short time after 



his visit to Uncle Harve, when, as he was at 


work at the back of his house, getting out stones 
for building in Yellowboro, he was accosted by two young 
men who had been out hunting. 

*^Any partridges around here? WeVe been looking 
for them for hours, and have not found but one covey,” 
said one of the young men. 

« You're mighty lucky to fin’ that many. These heyeh 
newcomers done run ’em all out o’ th’ country .. I ’spec’ 
thar’ll be nothin’ o’ any kin’ heyeh soon ef this covortin’ 
goes on as it’s bin a-goin’.” 

‘‘We mean no offence by coming on your farm, and 
asking you for information. We were told that par- 
tridges were plentiful out this way, and that the owners 
of the land did not abject to shooting.” 

“ I hain’t mad. I jest like tuh hev a say at th’ new- 
comers once an’ a while fer my health. They do rile 
me up monst’ous ’ith their big swellin’ ways an’ sich. 
You act different. Whut mought y’r names be? That’s 


AN HONEST LAWYER 83 

th’ new preacher ’ith y’u, I reckon. I seen him on th’ 
street.” 

My name is Keith, I am from Minnesota, and this 
is my friend, Mr. Gordon, whom I have for a room-mate 
at the hotel.” 

“ Glad tuh see ye. Y’uM better cum in an’ set down. 
Y’u won’t get no birds heyeh, but some time I’ll show y’u 
whar thar’s plenty on ’em. 

“ I’ve hearn tell o’ y’u, that ye takes up fer us folks 
as wuz bo’n an’ raised in this country when th’ thievin’ 
boomer air a-runnin’ us down, an’ I’ll do anythin’ I kin 
fer y’u.” 

‘‘We don’t want to take your time from your work, 
but we would like to rest a while and have a talk with 
you. I am much interested in this country, but more in 
the people who settled it.” 

“ Cum in, then. I hain’t no ways pressed fer time. 
Them rocks ’ll stay here an’ wait fer me. I reckon them 
boomers ’ll not cum an’ tote ’em off — that ’ould be too 
much like work. They mostly cums heyeh to keep 
from work, an’ tuh git rich off them whut hez tuh 
do it. Don’t ye open y’r eyes too wide at bearin’ a 
mountain man let go ’ith his mouth agin’ ’em, fer we 
hain’t bin used tuh sich bossin’ an’ orderin’ ’roun’ as they 
bin a-givin’ us.” 

After the men went into the cabin and had taken 
seats, and Pool had lighted his cob pipe, the con- 
versation began again, Keith and Gordon making a 


84 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


study of a mountain man in his home, and Pool, though 
they did not suspect it, searching them through and 
through with his sharp mountain wits. 

Ye wuz struck ’ith wonder, I reckon, when ye seed 
that town. It hain’t natural like fer these parts,^* Pool 
remarked between the puffs at his pipe. 

‘‘ Yes,” replied Keith, ‘‘ it seemed as though I had 
really come upon the days of the Arabian Nights, and 
that Aladdin must have rubbed his lamp and brought such 
a city, with its wide paved streets and handsome build- 
ings, up from the ground, or down from the air in a 
night.” 

“ I don’t know whut nights an’ lamps hez got tuh do 
’ith it, but I reckon that’s th’ way y’u talks whar y’u 
cums from, but thar hez bin a power o’ hard work done 
by us folks an’ th’ niggers from Alabamy tuh dig that 
tunnel under th’ Gap, an’ do whut’s bin done hereabouts. 

Reckon rubbin’ lamps an’ sich won’t work in these 
mount’ins, ef it does whar y’u cums from.” 

‘‘ I was only repeating something I had read in a story 
to show the surprise I felt at what appeared so wonderful 
to me. 

“ When I looked for a few shanties, like we have in 
new towns in the West, with muddy streets, and ex- 
pected that everybody would be living in shacks, and 
find all the comforts and luxuries of a first-class city, I 
thought it looked like magic, rather than the works of 
man.” 


AN HONEST LAWYER 


85 


“ It were th' works o’ man, I tell y’u, an’ hard works, 
too; ’ith th’ help o’ oxen, horses, an’ mules, ’ith^ steam 
shovels an’ sich thrown in fer good measure an’ keepin’ 
man a-goin’ on fast as he could fer his life.” 

Here Mr. Gordon asked : Have the newcomers 

abused the native people much, as I have been told ? ” 

“ ’Bused ’m? My Lord! they hev tried tuh a few times; 
but they hain’t so slow tuh learn a thing ur two as y’u 
mought think when y’u sees ’em a-swellin’ up an’ talkin’ 
like they hed cum heyeh tuh ride everythin’ whut could 
move. Ye sees ’em a-cumin’ down from th’ hotels like 
as ef they hed a saddle an’ bridle in their arms an’ wuz 
a-goin’ tuh put ’em on th’ fust man they met an’ ride 
him ’til he drapped. They hez I’arned tuh leave them 
ridin’ thin’s to home now, an’ wait till they goes back 
whar they cums from afore they uses ’em. 

Ef they wishes tuh go home in a chist o’ icc, let ’em 
try tuh put that ’ere saddle an’ bridle on one o’ us.” 

Were many of them hurt by the mountain men ? ” 
Keith inquired. 

Not less they hurt tharsel’ves a-runnin’ up th’ slope, 
ur a-fallin’ over somethin’ whut wuz in thar way. We 
don’t rear ’roun’ an’ cuss when we air insulted like they 
does, we jest pints a Winchester an’ pulls th’ trigger, an’ 
lets th’ tother man cuss, ef he wants tuh, in t’other coun- 
try, ef that’s whut he likes. We hain’t goin’ tuh dis- 
grace ourse’ves ’ith he’rin’ bad words a-flyin’ ’roun’ our 
heads. fVe never quarrels — we lights I 


86 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Tuh see 'em when they air achin' tuh show how big 
they air afore somebody who hez jest cum, by cussin' 
some mountain man an’ makin’ fun on him fer his clo’es 
an’ sich, takin’ a blue streak on thar legs tuh git out o’ 
range, air jest ’nough tuh make a dog die laughin’.” 

That is very interesting, Mr. Pool,” Gordon re- 
marked ; but are you native people robbed often ? ” 

They don’t dar’ rob us. They robs each other, an’ 
th’ poor simple folks whut cums heyeh frum furrin parts. 
They meets the newcumers at th’ train an’ follers ’em tuh 
th’ hotels an’ boardin’-houses, an’ nuver gives ’em any 
rest, ef they thinks they hez got any money, till by thar 
lies an' sich they squeezes ’em dry; but they knows ef 
they lies tuh us they’ll wish powerful bad they hed nuver 
beared tell o’ a lie ’fore they air many days older.” 

“ Do you think that such violent measures on your 
part are right, when you have all the usual courts of 
justice in the country?” 

“ We hev got no time fer lawin’ an’ no money tuh pay 
lawyers. Thar hain’t a lawyer heyeh but whut cum from 
somewhar outside o’ th’ mount’ins, an’ we air afeered tuh 
trust 'em. 

The Jedge air one o’ ’em, too, an’ so when ye gits tuh 
lawin’ ’ith thieves an’ hez thieves all 'roun' y’u, th' bes’ 
thin' tuh do air tuh gin up whut hez bin took from y’u an’ 
go back deeper into th’ mount’ins. I think we’ll all hev to 
do that afore long, anyhow, for it’s gittin' so crowded 
heyeh now. we can’t hardly git our breath.” 


AN HONEST LAWYER 


87 


But, Mr. Pool,” Mr. Gordon said, “ my friend Keith 
here is not the kind of a lawyer you are speaking about. 
I know from the talks that I have had with him that his 
purpose is always to stand for that which is right.” 

** I knows that jest as well as y'u does. He nuver ’ould 
^a' set down in my house ef he wuz like whut my ol* 
preacher calls ‘ wolves in sheep’s clothin’.’ No man whut 
I believes tuh be a liar ur a thief could set down in my 
house, when I wuz at home.” 

May I ask how you find out about persons so soon, 
and gauge their characters so surely?” Mr. Gordon asked. 

“We feels an’ we watches. We sees who a man goes 
’ith, an’ we listens tuh fin’ out who talks well o’ him an’ 
who talks agin’ him. 

“ I done hearn a lot o’ them boomers cuss this man 
Keith. They sez he takes th’ side o’ th’ mount’in peo- 
ple, an’ he hez got tuh be run out o’ this place. 

“ Then I sees him, ’ithout his knowin’ it, tendin’ tuh 
his own bizness an’ not struttin’ up an’ down th’ streets, 
an’ standin’ on th’ street corners talkin’ big an’ cussin’ 
loud. 

“ I’m boun’ tuh use me eyes an’ wits tuh git along, an’ 
I takes him fer an’ honest man an’ trusts him. Ef he 
thinks he kin hide from us people ye’ll jest hev to go intuh 
a cave an’ stay thar, an’ maybe ye’ll fin’ somethin’ in thar 
whut ’ll make ye git out o’ it quicker ’an ye went in.” 

“Do you go to church anywhere, Mr, Pool?” the 
preacher, true to his calling, asked. 


88 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


** Not fer some time. I did try, but I’m a Baptis’ tub 
me backbone, from out tub in, from top tub toe, an’ all 
’roun’. 

'' I bin uset tub Elder Morgan up wbar I cum from, 
an’ I can’t fin’ no preacher ’roun’ heyeh like him. 

I went to whut they calls th’ Baptis’ meetin’-house 
down heyeh, but th’ preacher were dressed up in fine clo’es 
an’ stood stiff as stil’ards. He gin out th’ hyme from a 
book, an’ they hed whut they calls a organ in th’ corner 
whut squeaked an’ roared all th’ time they wuz a-singin’. 

“ Then the preacher hed no holy tone when he said his 
say, but just talked like a lawyer in cou’t — ur a candidate 
fer th’ Legislater. I wuz plumb done out by it all, an’ 
when I ast one o’ th’ deacons ’bout it, an’ ef this wuz a 
real Baptis’ church, he laughed in my face an’ said it 
were a missionary Baptis’, ur some sich word, an’ not 
ol’ Iron Jacket, like them in th’ woods.” 

‘‘ I will be glad to have you come to our church, and 
worship with our people. We will be strange to you, no 
doubt, but we will make you welcome, and try to do you 
all the good we can,” said Gordon. 

Wall, I’m a cummin’. I hearn talk o’ a good many o’ 
our people cummin’ tuh hear y’u, ’cause these boomers air 
down on y’u an’ y’r church ’cause y’u’re from th’ No’th, 
an won t take sides agin’ us folks. Ye’ll be seein’ some 
on us nex’ Sunday, I spect.” 

At this point Mr. Keith rose, saying, “ We will go now. 
I am glad to have met you, and am coming out here to 


AN HONEST LAWYER 89 

see you ag^ain, if you do not object. I have been given 
an insight to many things by what you have sairf.’^ 

“ Wall, both o’ ye air welcome tuh cum at any time. 
I’ll show ye whar to go a-huntin’, night ur day, ef ye’ll let 
me know in time when ye air cummin’, an’ ef its birds ur 
varmints y’u’re arter.” 

Gordon and Keith had much to talk over as they 
walked back to the hotel. 

Gordon, these are the wisest people I have ever met 
in the way they put into use the very small amount of 
knowledge they have. Their senses are very sharp, made 
so by what they have had to encounter in subduing such 
a country as this, and in getting a living out of its in- 
hospitable soil.” 

Yes,” replied the minister, “ they are brave and sin- 
cere, and will suffer anything for what they believe to 
be right. Ignorant as their preachers are, they have, by 
unending reiteration, taught them that they are near to 
God, and that He will save and keep them. 

It is better to have a few truths, and to thoroughly 
put them into the minds and souls of the people, than to 
go over a vast continent of truth, and not even know 
well the stopping places on your journey.” 


X 


AT KEITH’S OFFICE 

M r. KEITH was surprised most agreeably when 
he entered his office one morning to find Thomp- 
son, a leading man among the mountaineers, 
awaiting his coming. 

Mr. Thompson was a man of better education than 
most of the natives, had often attended the United 
States Court at Louisville, and had been a member of 
the State Legislature. He accosted Mr. Keith with 
the statement, ‘‘ I have heard that the people who are 
running this town are down on you for speaking up for 
our folks whenever you get a chance, and that makes me 
come to you when I need a lawyer to help me out of a 
scrape.” 

** Glad to see you, my friend, and put myself at your 
service at once for what I can do in your behalf,” Mr. 
Keith replied. 

‘‘Well, ril go right at my business like a rifle-shot, 
and I won’t mince my words in telling you how Tm 
bein’ treated by them newcomers who think they own 
all this country, and that nobody has any right here but 
themselves. When they run over me, they will, if 

90 


AT KEITH’S OFFICE 91 

alive, want to be somewhere else than around these 
parts/’ ' 

“ Please give me all the facts, and we will see what 
ought to be done,” Mr. Keith said. 

“It is this way: IVe a tract of land, most of which 
runs up into the mountains. My grandfather took it up on 
a warrant from the State of Virginia, and settled on it 
when it was part of that State. My father got it from 
him and it came to me by the will of my father as my part 
of his property. Up on the side of the mountains, near 
the Tennessee line, the prospectors have found the richest 
bed of iron ore in this region. This ore is well over on 
my land. The line between it and that owned by the 
Company running the town, is three or four hundred yards 
west of this bed of iron, so there’s no way to get near the 
ore without I’m willin’. They sent men to me to try and 
buy my land. I did not know of the iron bein’ on it, but 
I didn’t want to sell it. I didn’t need the money and I 
wanted to keep every acre I got from my father for my 
children. These men kept botherin’ me to sell, till I 
began to think there must be some mighty good reason 
for their cornin’ so often, and I went up there to see if I 
could find out what it was that made them so anxious to 
get that poor mountain land. I found when I got there 
a heap of holes dug by some persons and in nearly every 
one on my land signs of iron ore that was very rich. I 
put some lumps of this ore in my pockets and without 
goin’ home took the train for Cedarville to see a man 


92 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


there who knows all about ore, and runnin’ such things. 
This man just as soon as he saw the lumps said right out, 
* You’ve got some mighty fine specimens of iron ore here. 
Where did you get them?’ ‘Oh, just up back of my house 
on the mountain.’ ‘ Then you are a rich man, if there’s 
much of this kind of ore there,’ was the reply. ‘ Whole 
mountain full of it,’ I told him, and then said he, ‘ Keep 
your wits about you, Thompson, and hold on to it like grim 
death, for this kind of thing is just what them speculators 
down your way have been searchin’ high and low for ever 
since they landed in the country. They’ll scheme night 
and day to get that land, and you’ll have to sleep with one 
eye open to save it from them, let me tell you.’ I answered 
him by saying, ‘ If anybody can find a man in my tribe 
nappin’ so as to take his land, let him come on and do it.’ 
I had hardly got home when the manager came himself, 
and in a high and mighty manner told me that he would 
come to the point at once and offer me five dollars an 
acre for two hundred acres of my worthless mountain 
land, as he was too busy to waste any more time on such 
a small matter. His way made me mad as fire in a min- 
ute, and I told him that I had no land to sell, and if that 
was all the business he had with me, he might as well go on 
his way at once. At this he grew as red in the face as a 
turkey cock, and said things so fast and of such a char- 
acter that I’ll not repeat them even to a lawyer. 

“ In about a week, Tom Pool, a friend of mine, came 
to me and, said that they had asked him to see if he could 


AT KEITH’S OFFICE 


93 


persuade me to sell the land. By this time I had posted 
myself by writin’ to Louisville and consultin’ othef men 
who knew a thing or two about such matters, and I told 
Tom to go back to them that had sent him and tell them 
that they couldn’t buy one inch of my land for love or 
money ; that they could go on the land and mine as much 
ore as they wanted for their huge steel plant by paying 
me one dollar for each ton they took away. Tom told them 
this and come right back to me and said, ‘ They plumb 
swore themselves black and blue. Say, sich folks as they 
is air too dirty-mouthed fer white folks. Y’u’d better 
look out fer ’em, fer they air goin’ tuh git that Ian’ fer 
certain an’ shore they says.’ I got Tom and some more 
like him I could depend on to watch them boomers, and 
they report that yesterday a surveyor was on the land 
and run a new line that puts all the ore on their side. 
Tom said he went up and asked the manager, who was 
on hand, what they were doin’, and he got fer an answer 
that they had searched and found that the line was wrong 
and were only making it right. * What ’ll Thompson do 
about this? ’ Tom asked. ‘ If he don’t like it he can just 
help himself at the law just as soon as he likes,’ was the 
reply.” 

Ah, I see their plan. It is to force you to ask the 
Courts to help you, so that if they fail in getting them 
to work in their interest, as they expect to do, they can, 
by postponements and appeals, work the mines for years 
and wear you out by expense and worry until you will be 


94 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

glad to compromise with them upon the best terms you 
can get.” 

** Compromise, did you say ? Do you or they know 
what that means to us in these mountains? We give or 
keep all. There’s no betwixt or between with us. Com- 
promise! When I know I’m right, I’ll die first. And 
let me tell you that those who are with me are lions’ 
whelps, and ’ll follow in my steps to the last of the 
race.” 

“ When can you bring me your papers to examine ? ” 
Mr. Keith asked. 

I have ’em here,” Thompson replied, and immediately 
took from his pocket a bundle of papers, which Mr. Keith 
took, and untying it, laid the papers upon his desk. The ^ 
first one was from the Governor of Virginia. 

Council Chamber, June i, 1785. 

No. 3913. 

John Thompson is entitled to the proportion 
of land allowed a Captain of the Continental 
Line for three years* service. 

P. Henry. Tho. Merriwether. 

The next paper was a warrant issued June 21, 1785, to 
Captain John Thompson, and then a transcript from the 
Court showing that this warrant had been located upon 
the land now in question, and that the metes and bounds 
were just as now claimed by the man who was occupy- 
ing it. 


AT KEITH’S OFFICE 


95 


When Keith had seen all these papers and consid- 
ered them for a time, he told Thompson that his title to 
the land was perfect, and that he could maintain his right 
against all comers. 

I am only troubled,” he said, “ as to the best way 
to save your time and money in keeping safe what is your 
inheritance. Give me two or three days to look into the 
rulings of your Supreme Court and to gain some more 
information of the practice of the Circuit Court in this 
district, and I think I will find a way to checkmate these 
persons who are after your land.” 


XI 


A REBUFF 

W HEN Thompson came for further advice, he 
told Keith that he had found out that pos- 
session was to be taken of his land in a few 
days according to the last survey. Keith served a 
notice upon the manager of the company that he must 
keep off Thompson’s land and that the necessary means 
would be taken to protect all and sundry of the rights 
of his client, which only still further exasperated him and 
his party. When Keith met some of them upon his return 
to the hotel, he was given to understand, in a way which 
it was impossible to mistake, that wrath was to be visited 
upon him personally for acting in the capacity of an at- 
torney in behalf of his client. His friend, Gordon, gave 
him further evidence of this by warning him of coming 
danger in relating what had been said to him by some 
angry person who, knowing him to be a friend and com- 
panion of Keith, had visited some of their newly excited 
fury upon him. So unpleasant was the situation that, 
had it been possible, others quarters would' have been 
found. 

As there was nothing to do but to remain where they 

96 


A REBUFF 


97 


were, the young men drew closer together and supported 
each other in every possible way. Soon it was clear that 
so far as social and business matters were concerned, 
they were to be altogether ignored and left to their own 
plans for happiness and success. In a day or two they 
were greeted with the sight of a company of armed men 
under the lead of the manager, prepared for an excursion 
into the mountains. It was a picturesque gathering, clad 
as they were in the costume of hunters and bearing the 
finest arms which could be procured. 

Keith and Mr. Gordon quietly passed through this 
crowd of men, who were in such high spirits that they 
were mixing profanity, jokes, and hunting songs, in a 
way to express their ideas of a grand time. Not noticing 
the remarks, which were made with the intention of in- 
sulting and exasperating them, they walked on to Keith’s 
office. 

'' I fear much bloodshed,” said the young lawyer, “ if 
Thompson gets an inkling of this move in time to reach 
the place where the mines are to be opened. He has the 
law on his side, and has an intelligent grasp of the situa- 
tion. He will shoot those men without a qualm of con- 
science. He has the mountain people with him, and it 
appears as though we are on the eve of a war which 
will end in driving all these newcomers out of the country 
unless the State Guard is called into service for their 
protection.” 

** All we can do is to await results. Those men would 


98 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

spurn any counsel or advice which could be given, and 
they must be left to eat the fruit of their doings,” Mr. 
Gordon answered. 

A few hours later, while Keith was busy at his desk, 
he was startled by seeing Tom Pool enter his office. It 
was evident that Pool had travelled rapidly, and was 
somewhat out of breath from his exertions. 

** What’s happened ? ” Keith asked with much emphasis. 

“ Wall, John sent me tuh tell y’u ’bout it. He thought 
he’d better stay ’roun’ a spell ’fore he cum back tuh town. 
We wuz thar fust, ’cause I knowed all whut they wuz 
a-tryin’ to do. I sent word tuh John, an’ he hed ’nuff 
men behin’ trees tuh kill all them folks quicker than a 
cat kin lick her foot. I kinder felt sorry fer th’ crowd 
on ’em, but thar’s no fools so bad as them as am fools fer 
money. They jest cum on an’ druv th’ wagon, whut th’ 
picks an’ men wuz in, plumb ’cross John’s line, and done 
jest as ef they hed deeds frum God A’mighty. They 
wuz mighty busy gittin’ ready tuh dig when John cum 
frum behin’ a tree, an’ his voice sang out like th’ crack 
o’ a rifle ’ith fight all through it : * Y’u’re on my Ian’, an’ I 
order ye tuh git off it an’ tuh do it quick, too.’ When 
John spoke, th’ men who wuz gittin’ th’ picks out o’ th’ 
wagon stood still an’ wouldn’t move a peg. The big man 
’ith a yaller jacket on him, he got up in his stirrups an’ 
cussed ’em blue, tol’ ’em he hed hired ’em tuh do whut he 
tol’ ’em, an’ that they hed tuh go on an’ dig th’ iron out o* 
th’ Ian’. ' Thompson’s only bluffin’, he dassen’t shoot. I’ll 


A REBUFF 


99 


show him who’s th’ boss ’roun’ heyeh.’ One o’ his men 
then opened his head an’ jest tol’ him, ‘ I’m ready tuh 
work fer a livin’ when thar’s work fer me tuh do, but I 
got a wife an’ children at home, an’ I hain’t a-goin’ tuh 
throw my life away in somebody else’s fuss, not by a 
long shot.’ ‘ I’m a-goin' tuh turn off every man whut 
won’t do what I tells ’em,’ th’ big man in th’ yaller jacket 
yelled. ‘ We knows John Thompson better ’an y’u, an’ 
he’ll shoot his own brother, ef he’d try tuh stick his pick 
intuh this heyeh groun’ — much less th’ likes o’ us. John 
’ud rather shoot than eat any day, an’ he hain’t like folks 
as don’t keep thur words.’ ‘ Gin up y’r picks, ye cowards, 
an’ go home,’ th’ yaller-jacket man yelled. ‘ Ye dassen’t 
call men whut wuz bo’n an’ bred in Kentucky cowards; 
we’ll show ye ef we air cowards.’ Then this man reached 
intuh his clo’es an’ brings out a army pistol an’ every 
mount’in man thar a-follerin’ him, they jest went plumb 
over tuh John an’ got behin’ a tree an’ wuz ready fer 
work afore ye could say Jack Robinson. Yaller Jacket 
looked like ’twuz th’ last day in th’ mornin’ tuh him fer a 
minit ur two, but when th’ white hed gone out o’ his face 
an’ th’ red cum back, he yelled tuh his folks tuh cum on, 
that he wuz a-goin’ to dig his own self. Not a single 
one o* them fellers whut wuz dressed out like jay birds 
’uld move a peg. Thar stomacks wuz sick, an’ they wuz 
wantin’ to see home mighty bad. Yaller Jacket cussed 
’em worse ’an he did us folks, an’ jess grabbed a pick an’ 
made like he wuz a-goin’ tuh dig ore like fury all by hisself. 


L.cf C. 


100 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


While he hed th’ pick over his head he looked at John’s ol’ 
mount’in gun, an’ then I seed his arms shake an’ he threw 
th’ pick as fur as he could sen’ it, an’ cussin’ like he wuz 
spittin’ fire, he made fer his boss, an’ wuz as fast as any 
on ’em gettin’ out o’ gunshot.” 

Keith listened to the mountaineer as he went on with 
his story, and when he had finished, asked, “ What is to 
be done, if the manager gets more men and comes back 
to-morrow, as he is likely to do, and forces matters? ” 

“ Jest whut happened to-day, only more so. Nex’ time 
John ’ll begin to shoot afore he says anythin’ tuh ’em an’ 
afore they git time tuh git off thur bosses. John’s 
a-goin’ to keep all that’s his’n; he tol’ me tuh tell you 
that ef ye ast me.” 

^‘As he has a survey and claims possession, which is 
called ^ nine points of the law,’ he may get the Sheriff of 
the county to go with him under some pretence or other. 
What will happen then?” 

Th’ Sheriff’s kin tuh John, an’ I’ll tell Yaller Jacket, 
he hed better look whar he’s a-goin’ ’fore he jumps in th’ 
dark o’ th’ moon in these parts, fer ef he don’t he’ll think 
it’s a long way tuh th’ groun’ ’fore he hits it ’ith his feet. 
Then John hain’t goin’ tuh stop fer a Sheriff, long as he 
knows he’s got th’ right on it. John’s help may 
cum o’ these heyeh laws in Kentucky, an’ he’s said a good 
many times that no law’s good when rascals use ’em tuh 
take whut hones’ men’s got by whut’s right.” 

‘‘ Will you resist the State Guard if it is called out by 


A REBUFF 


101 


the Governor ? You know we must obey the powers that 
be and keep the peace/^ 

** That ’ll make no diffe’ence ’less th’ Jedge at Cedar- 
ville gives ’em th' right papers arter he hez heard th’ 
case an’ giv John his chance tuh hev his say. They air 
robbers now an’ ’ll be robbers till it air settled in a right 
way that John and his dad an’ grandad nuver hed no 
right tuh that thar Ian’. Till that’s done, it’s John’s, an’ 
we’re a-goin’ tuh stan’ ’ith him till th’ las’ horn blows. 
We bin in this country too long tuh be run out by anyone 
whut cums along an’ thinks he kin take whut’s our’n an’ 
whut’s bin our fathers’. We air goin’ tuh fight fer our 
own till death.” 

You certainly talk in accord with the true meaning 
of the law of the land and show that it is largely written 
on the heart of an honest man, but we must sometimes, 
to avoid a greater wrong, submit to injustice for a 
time.” 

'' Yes, that’s whut some o’ our preachers bin a-tellin’ 
us, an’ we hez bin a-tryin’ tuh do somethin’ that way at 
times, but y’u axed me a fair question an’ I hev gin y’u 
a square answer ’bout whut ’ll happen ef Yaller Jacket 
tries tuh do whut y’u tol’ me ’bout. I hain’t no lamed 
man, but y’u knows now an’ y’u kin depend on whut I 
bin a-tellin’ y’u.” 

While Pool was finishing these remarks, to his sur- 
prise Thompson came in. 

Tom, I found the field was clear and that there was 


102 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


no use for me up there any longer and so I came on 
knowin’ Fd find you here/’ he said to Pool. 

‘‘ I thought y’u’d not stay long arter th’ Yaller Jackets 
got off. No use plaguin’ yerself arter sich as them. All 
on ’em, ’cept th’ Boss, air afeered o’ shootin’-irons an’ air 
a-tryin’ tuh make folks think they air mighty mad tuh 
hide th’ joy they feels at gittin’ back ’ith whole skins. 
Yaller Jacket’s a robber an’ ’ll steal mos’ anythin’ worth 
havin’, from a toothpick tuh a block o’ houses, but he’s 
a heap too good fer that pack o’ cowards he hed ’ith him 
up in th’ woods. I wonder he don’t throw ’em off his 
stomick in hopes o’ gittin’ well o’ some o’ his meanness 
that’s a-strikin’ intuh his in’ards. Yes, he’s th’ bes’ of 
th’ lot, an’ ef his conscience wuzn’t troublin’ him a lettle 
bit an’ he hed some men ’ith him ’stead o’ them thin’s he 
hed to-day, he mought ’ith proper care grow inter a man 
ef ye gin him time ’nough. Look heyeh, John, this 
lawyer man y’u sent me tuh hez bin a-askin’ me whut 
y’u’re goin’ tuh do ’bout them folks cumin’ back to- 
morrow, an’ sich,” Pool went on and repeated in sub- 
stance what Keith had asked him and what he had told 
him, when Thompson replied, ‘‘ You’ve got it about 
right, Tom, and there’s no use in my goin’ over it again, 
but there’ll be no goin’ on to that land by that crowd. 
They’ve found out they can’t take possession by scarin’ 
anybody so as to get into law and they are not going 
back there even when they go a-huntin’, if I know any- 
thing about men. Pm so sure of this that Pm ready to 


A R E B U F F 103 

pay Mr. Keith his fee and thank him besides for his 

• ft 

services. 

When Keith and the minister, Mr. Gordon, who had 
been together for some time in the lawyer’s office,, went 
in company to the hotel that evening, though there were 
many of the boomers on and near the porch, not one of 
them took the slightest notice of them when spoken to in 
the usual polite and cordial manner of these gentlemen. 
The clerk in the office, when he handed their mail to 
them, and even the waiters in the dining room, made them 
feel that the fiat had gone forth from the boss and his 
satellites that they were to be made to feel they were un- 
welcome at the hotel, which was the property of the 
boomer company and was run in its interests. 


XII 


A FISHING TRIP 

A COUPLE of weary yet undaunted hearts dwelt in 
the breast of our minister and his friend. They 
had need of a fortitude which gave no heed to fear, 
as every day made them more sensible of the evil purpose 
of those who intended their downfall. 

They encouraged each other in their many talks, which 
they now made more frequent and were mainly confined 
to their rooms, as care must be taken to speak of other 
matters than that which was uppermost in their minds, 
when at meals. 

One of the lawyers with whom Keith had his office was 
a refuge, and refused with scorn a proposition which in- 
volved his turning Keith out of his office. 

Mr. Gordon's little congregation suffered by a falling 
off in the number who attended upon his ministrations, 
and he was sure that a secret and determined effort was 
being made to keep persons from aiding him in his work. 

One man — a merchant — ^told him that he had to quit 
the church or else lose much of his trade. 

** Are there others like you ? " Mr. Gordon asked him. 
" You can judge for yourself,” was the reply. 

104 


105 


A FISHING TRIP 

It was not difficult to be depressed, but a cheerful man- 
ner and a bright face was shown to all persons. Tom 
Pool, whom Mr. Gordon met, spoke to him of the 
fine fishing in the mountains near where his kinsman, 
Harvey Turner, lived and so impressed him that he went 
to the office of Mr. Keith at once and persuaded him to 
agree to start with him the next Monday. Keith had 
some fine fishing tackle and one of his office mates had 
some poles which he was glad to loan them. Pool came 
in to see them start, and to give them directions such as 
would enable them to find the way and cheered them with 
his statements of how abundant the fish were and of how 
glad his friend would be to see them. It was bright and 
early when they got off on horseback. The saddle is 
none too comfortable for a man unaccustomed to it and 
only the great beauty of the mountain scenery kept our 
friends from much discomfort. 

A man who has never had the experience, can form no 
idea of the sensation of being within a forest, tracing his 
way along a dim and at times invisible path, knowing 
himself to be miles from a human habitation and un- 
certain of when he will find his way out and gain shelter 
and refreshment. 

Our travellers had slower horses than they bargained 
for, and the trail over which they went was broken by 
stones in many places, so that the poor beasts could not 
proceed with a speed at all encouraging. 

As evening drew near, the cabin was reached, where 


106 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

Pool’s kinsman lived, but when they asked if they could 
remain for the night, they were told by the man at the door 
that there was sickness in the family. Moreover, he added 
as “ there was but one room besides that they cooked and 
lived in, and much as he disliked to say it, he could not 
keep them. The mountaineer, however, told them to 
“ Keep right down me spring branch, ’til it runs intuh 
a nigger branch, an’ then keep on down that branch 
’til it runs tuh a crick, an’ then go down that crick 
’til y’u cum tuh some bars on th’ left han’. Go through 
’em an’ ride up th’ path an’ y’u’ll see a two-pen cabin, a 
lettle way up th’ slope. Ride right up, an’ tell ’em Uncle 
Harve sent y’u thar tuh stay all night, an’ I think y’u’ll 
git th’ bes’ they’s got an’ be welcome. Whut’s y’u doin’ 
in this country, I’d like tuh know ? ” he then asked. 

“ Oh, we want to get some of the fish we’ve heard so 
, much about in Yellowboro.” 

Wall, wall! I’m proud tuh see ye, an’ more ’an that, 
ef my sick darter hain’t no worse. I’ll be down tuh see ye 
betimes in th’ mornin’ an’ fish a leetle ’ith ye meself.” 

In the uncertain light the way down the branch was a 
rough one. The horses were tired, and after they had 
slipped a time or two on the smooth stones, covered with 
moss, it was not possible to get them to go on. At this, 
Mr. Gordon dismounted, and, taking his horse by the 
bridle-rein, led the way. As it grew very dark soon, he 
had to give up what path there was — if there was any — 
and grope for the water as his guide. 


A FISHING TRIP 


107 


Keith, in the dilemma, gave his voice for abandon- 
ing the quest for lodgings, and contended that, tired and 
hungry as they were, it would be better to lie down on the 
mountain side, cover themselves with the saddle blankets, 
and wait for the morning. 

No, sir!’' replied Mr. Gordon, with emphasis. ‘‘I 
came up here to go fishing in the morning, and I am not to 
be stopped if I have to crawl on my hands and knees to 
find the way.” 

He had scarcely spoken, when down he went with a 
great splash, not to his knees, but flat upon his face, full 
into the water of the branch. His companion could not 
tell whether it was horse or man or both that had fallen, 
nor whether it was over a bluff or precipice they had 
gone. 

''Oh, Gordon! are you hurt? where are you?” Keith’ 
cried with all the voice he had left in him. 

" I am right here in the water and moss,” Gordon an- 
swered, " and not much hurt, I guess ; but it’s quite a 
sensation to start down a mountain in this way, with a 
horse attachment. Let’s tie the horses and go on foot. I 
want to go down this mountain by degrees, and not all at 
once in a heap.” 

There was some debate between the men about the 
wisest course to pursue, and they were just about con- 
cluding to leave the horses, when they heard something 
coming with a rush down the higher part of the mountain 
above them. 


108 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


** Listen ! What's that coming so fast right upon us ? 
Perhaps it’s a panther, or a robber, or many of them,” 
Gordon exclaimed. 

” Get on the side of your horses, away from it, and we 
will soon learn our fate,” Keith replied. 

With bounds, apparently impossible for a man to take, 
and with a speed seemingly reckless, whatever it was, it 
came on as if full of fury and bent on destruction. When 
;so close that Keith, who was nearest, expected to feel 
a blow, or be borne down by the spring of his assail- 
ant, a voice out of the darkness came in kindly tones, 
crying: 

“ Can’t fin^ y’r way an’ plumb lost, air ye? Wall, ye 
air good at hollerin’, even fer th’ mount’ins. ’Spec’ every- 
body in this neck o’ woods done out o’ the’r cabins a- 
lookin’ out fer whut’s cumin’. Ef y’u don’t believe in 
shoutin’ it’s not b’cause ye can’t make noise enough. Is 
that un that hed that fall hurt ? ” 

“ Not much, thank you,” Mr. Gordon answered out of 
the gloom. Only I am not looking for more of the same 
sort. My hands are a little cut on the rocks and my 
clothes are wet, and I should say muddy^ if I didn’t know 
there was no mud here. I suppose they are mossy.” 

** Let me git thar,” the man said. ** I beared y’u as I 
were standin’ in th’ door listenin’. It’s only a leetle step 
tuh me cabin th’ way ye hearn me come, an’ I’m heyeh 
tuh lead y’u out. Wish I’d cum at fust. Gi’ me that boss 
an’ ye jest keep close an’ f oiler me. This heyeh path’s as 


AFISHINGTRIP 109 

plain tuh me as me front yard, as I’ve bin goin’ over, it 
all me life.” 

Uncle Harve, for it was he, took the minister’s horse 
by the bridle, the other horse following him, and in a 
short time the larger branch was reached. 

As a greater number of the mountaineers used this 
path, it was wider and better worn, and there was less 
difficulty in following it. Finally, they came to the creek, 
where there was a kind of wagon road, along which they 
proceeded with some ease. 

When the bars were found. Uncle Harve put them 
down, and said, Go right up through this lot an’ y’u’ll 
see a light arter a while, an’ make fer it, an’ when they 
knows I sent ye, they’ll take ye in an’ keep ye. I’ll see 
ye agin.” 

“ I wonder where that light is, and when we shall see 
it,” Mr. Gordon observed, as, blundering on, he strained 
his eyes in the darkness. “ I suppose some good spirit of 
the mountains will come to me if I fall into the tops of 
the trees somewhere, and hang there for the eagles to 
feed on. I hear the dogs barking, don’t you, Keith? ” 

“Yes, and there are plenty of them, too; several to 
each man of us, I guess, from the sound of them. I 
think I’ll mount my horse and let them get a taste of 
‘ boss ’ meat before they try man-meat. They are 
hounds, I judge, from their bay. They may be blood- 
hounds for aught I know, for I have been told there are 
many of them in these mountains.” 


110 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Both now mounted as a protection from the dogs and 
rode on. The dogs had stopped at the fence, and were 
standing, eight or ten of them, with their front feet upon 
the top rail, ready to spring over the fence and rush upon 
the trespassers at a word from their master. 

Mr. Gordon, upon getting near enough to the house, 
from which a flickering, uncertain light issued, cried, 
“ Halloo, the house,’’ and a sharp, clear woman’s voice 
replied, “ Whut y’u want, an’ who air ye ? ” 

“ I want to stay all night,” said Mr. Gordon. 

I’m a poor widow woman, an’ don’t take in strangers. 
Hardly got ’nough fer me poor child’en.” 

“We do not know where else to go, and we are tired 
and hungry, and one of us is hurt from a fall.” 

“ Can’t help that. Ye mus’ git away, ur it ’ll be worse 
fer ye, mighty quick.” 

Having said this, she made as if to shut the door and 
leave them to the dogs, who, having been quieted for a 
time by command of their mistress, now became more 
furious than ever. If they could have seen the Win- 
chester rifles ready for immediate action in the hands of 
the boys within, they would have seen the necessity for 
prompt movement. 

Mr. Gordon, not knowing his danger, hallooed again, 
before the door was fully closed saying: 

“ Uncle Harve sent us here, and said you would take 
us in for the night.” 

While from the uproar made by the dogs the woman 


APISHINGTRIP 111 

could not understand all Mr. Gordon said, she turned, 
and, facing- the front, cried: 

'' VVhut’s that ye say ’bout Uncle Harve? ” 

“ He could not take us because he said his daughter 
was sick, and he sent us to you, and told us to tell you 
so. He brought us to the bars and told us he would be 
here early in the morning, if he could leave his daughter.” 

“ Bless my soul an’ body ! Why didn’t ye tell that at 
fust? Light an’ cum in — y’u, Rover, be quiet! All of 
ye cum away. 

“ Heyeh, boys, ye go an’ take th’ bosses an’ bring 

• it 

em in. 

Such a change is rarely ever seen in this world as 
had taken place when the good housewife found out that 
Uncle Harve had sent these men, and that she could keep 
them without fear. 

The boys put their guns in their racks, went out and 
drove the dogs back, and took the tired beasts from 
the men, telling them to go into the house while they 
cared for the horses. This they did by taking off the 
saddles and bridles, and tying them to stakes with the 
halters already on them. Fodder was put before them, 
together with eight ears of small white corn. As the 
horses could sleep standing on their feet, or lie down on 
the ground, this was considered ample provision for 
them. 

When the tired men entered the house they found 
Ruth Finley — for they were at the house of Pete Finley — 


112 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


already working among the iron things on or near the 
broad and deep hearth. 

While the girl was making up the corn-dodger dough 
from the sweet, white mountain corn, ground in an old- 
fashioned over-shot mill,’’ and were frying the fat 

middling ” of bacon, Mrs. Finley had laid aside her pipe 
and tobacco, the odour of whose impregnating power was 
ingrained in every splinter of the house, and was setting 
the table with some cream-coloured china — as she called 
it — which some day, far back in the past, had been 
white. 

The boys, meantime, had been to the spring-house, and 
returned with the night’s milk, which had had time to 
cool since Sukey and Baldface had given it into the pail 
in response to the stroking of the hands of “ Sis.” 

All things being ready, Mrs. Finley said, “ Set up an’ 
make a beginnin’.” 

The minister did not know whether this meant to be- 
gin eating or to ask a blessing, but concluded he would 
ask a blessing, which he proceeded to do, after the way 
of offering a prayer instead of giving thanks. 

Seeing that prayer was being offered, the Finleys knelt 
down. When Mr. Gordon had said “ amen,” he was as 
much astonished as were the Firileys. 

Ruth, wild thing, and full of life as she was, ‘‘ could 
not, however, keep her face straight,” as she said after 
it was all over, and laughed, as the girls say down in the 
country, fit to kill herself.” 


A FISHING TRIP 


113 


Mr. Keith caught the contagion from Ruth’s eyes, and 
had a hard time to chew his mixture of corn-bread and 
fat bacon, even with the aid of fresh milk. 

“ Sis, behave y’uself an’ mind y’r manners,” the mother 
said, with a note in her voice which, nevertheless, showed 
a sympathy for Sis which had come from Eve’s first 
daughter, whose name being lost, it cannot be given to 
many of the laughing girls who now abound upon the 
earth, even to the fastnesses of the mountains. 

Mrs. Finley, when asked, consented to having prayers 
before going to bed without an eating accompaniment, 
but could not produce a Bible, as such a thing had never 
been in the house. Therefore one was brought from Mr« 
Gordon’s saddle-bags. 

Prayer over, to the great relief of the smallest boy, who 
asked his brother, when upon their knees, “ Bud, I say. 
Bud, air we goin’ tuh sleep this-a-way all night ? ” Mrs. 
Finley pointed to the ladder in the corner of the room, 
and said, “ Go up that, an’ ye’ll fin’ y’r bed up thar.” 

Qimbing this rickety ladder they found themselves in 
a loft floored with loose boards, that moved and creaked 
when they walked over them, and a roof of planks, warped 
by the sun until they turned up at the lower end, and be- 
ing without nails and held in place against the wind by 
the stones laid upon them, they left spaces for the de- 
lightful study of astronomy. 

The bed was a scaffold,’ on which a feather bed had been 
placed over some loose, ordinary straw, and, from its 


114 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


size and odour, was from Old Virginia,’^ and antedated 
Washington and the Revolution in its birth. It was, as 
they afterwards learned, an ancestral possession and 
heirloom in Mrs. Finley's family. 

There were three tiers of sleepers at the cabin that 
night : the dogs under the house, the family on the main 
floor, and the travellers in the loft. All slept well except 
the dogs, for under the unusual responsibility of having 
strangers to care for and watch over the house, not to 
speak of their usual enemies, running all over them and 
drawing a living from their blood, they were so much 
disturbed as at times to make the night dismal by their 
unearthly howls. 


XIII 


FISHING IN EARNEST 

T he early cock-crowing awakened Keith, and 
turning over rather hastily, he drove his elbow 
into Mr. Gordon’s side with such force as made 
him, for a moment, imagine that he was impaled upon an 
inquisitor’s spike. 

Both heard such sounds as convinced them that the 
family below were up and at their morning duties. The 
dogs became quiet, but the calves and ducks and geese 
took up the work of noise-making, which so aroused 
them that they hastily dressed and came down the ladder 
to see and hear what made the early morning so de- 
lightful in the mountains. 

First they went to the spring to wash their faces and 
hands in water clear as crystal, and so soft and sweet 
that Mr. Gordon said “ he could drink it and never get 
enough.” 

As described by Bub Finley, what they did next was 
wonderful. They jest took outen thur pockets — th’ side 
ones on thur coats — a long narrow thing, which looked 
a leetle like a brush at th’ big end, an’ then they scooped 
up some water in thur ban’s an’ put that air thing I’m 

115 


116 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


tellin’ y’u ’bout in thur mouths ’ith th’ water, an’ then 
they scrubbed an’ scrubbed an’ spluttered an’ spit like all 
fury. An’ then they took th’ thing an’ washed it all out 
by splashing it in th’ water below th’ spring, an’ then 
they beat it on thur ban’s tuh git th’ water outen it, an’ 
put it back in thur pockets. I jest naturally reckon that 
they hez somethin’ mighty bad th’ matter ’ith they 
mouths, ur they mus’ be uncommon dirty an’ not like 
ourn.” 

After the ablutions, as they were returning to the house, 
the sight of Ruth milking the cows, and of Bub holding 
the calves after he had let them through the slip gap, was 
very novel to both the town visitors. As the night’s milk 
had been used for supper, this was at once put in the 
spring-house, after it had been strained, to get the animal 
heat out of it for breakfast. 

Ruth had attracted Mr. Keith’s attention the night be- 
fore, but when he saw her, after milking two cows, place 
the pail of milk upon her head, and walk to the spring 
with an elastic swinging step, the personification of grace 
in every motion, he remarked to Mr. Gordon, ** She is 
the most magnificent creature of the woman kind I have 
ever seen. What a pity it is that she cannot be edu- 
cated ! ” 

The girl was five feet eight inches in height, but her 
figure was so perfect she did not appear so tall. Her 
head sat upon a neck which was as well-rounded as a 
marble column, and had a poise of blended beauty, 


FISHING IN EARNEST 


117 


strength, and grace. Her hair was that rarely seen chest- 
nut-brown color, and her eyes would have been lovely, 
either for their deep hazel colour, or for their expression, 
which betokened purity of thought and a soul fitted for 
both constancy and affection. 

Her pliant form had been permitted to develop under 
the hands of the great Artist of the universe. No con- 
stricting bands or stays had warped it to conform with 
fashion. Her mother had not learned in the school where 
cruelty gains its satisfaction in more deadly ways than 
foot-binding, but had permitted the girl's fine form to 
bloom into the flower which best showed the will of Him 
who had given her life, and sent her forth to be beautiful. 

The sound of her voice was musical in laugh or talk, 
in calling the chickens or the cows, or when she softly 
sang the plaintive melodies of the old-fashioned tunes that 
she learned at the meeting-house. It was no wonder that 
a man who had never seen such a wonder of grace and 
beauty was impressed by this princess of nature. 

Before the house was reached, as the young men were 
returning from the spring, following in the wake of 
Ruth, upon whom Keith's eyes were fixed in despair 
of ever seeing anyone carry herself as she did, they heard 
the cheerful, triumphant tones of Uncle Harve, speaking 
to the dogs : 

Oh, ye needn't cum jumpin' an' whinin' 'roun' me. 
I hain't goin' arter deer ur coons tuh-day. I’m arter 
whut swims in th' water. 


118 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


'' Hallo, young men,” he cried, as he saw Keith and 
his companion approaching. 

“ Up 'arly, y’u air. Mount’ins no place fer ' lay-a- 
beds.’ It takes a mighty long day heyeh tuh git 
in all th’ good lyin’ ’roun’ loose. Hed y’r break- 
fas’ ? Wall, I tho’t I’d beat ye by a long shot. While ye 
fill up fer th’ day. I’ll ketch th’ bait an’ git ready fer 
bizness. Got plenty o’ tackle, ye say. 

“ Lemme see it.” 

Mr. Keith went into the house and got his sea-grass 
lines, with their reels and corks, and handed them to 
Uncle Harve, who stood looking at them, and fingering 
them all the time with a curious expression on his 
face. 

‘‘ How many feet in this line ? ” he asked, as he held 
up one of them. 

** Three hundred,” Mr. Keith answered. 

“ Coin’ tuh fish in th’ clouds ? ’Spect y’u’ll be a-climbin’ 
th’ trees undoin’ y’r hook ef y’u go it on that pattern. And 
them red an’ yaller things ’ll run all th’ fish outen th’ 
crick the minit they sees ’em. Wall, ef it’s fish ye air 
arter, ye’ll hev tuh try somethin’ that ’ll do fer these parts. 
I s’pose down whar ye cum from, whar th’ water’s deep 
an’ th’ river’s wide, y’u mought make out tuh do a leetle 
’ith them sort o’ thin’s, but up heyeh ye’ll only be throwin’ 
away y’r time tuh try ’em.” 

All the time he was talking he was producing, either 
from his trouser pockets, or from the chimney corner of 



FISHING IN EARNEST 119 

the house, lines about twenty feet long, and hooks with 
such sinkers as he had tried through many years. 

Cum heyeh. Bub, an’ see whut I’ve got ’fore they’s 
put out o sight. Ye nuver seen such thin’s afore, an’ 
mought nuver agin, ’less ye runs away from home.” 

Bub came, handled, and gazed at Mr. Keith’s tackle 
without saying anything, save with his eyes, which gave 
out a mingled expression of amusement and wonder. 

'‘Y’u’d better not wet them things, as that ’ll make 
’em heavy tuh tote. I’ve got whut y’u wants. I’ll take 
th’ seine an’ find y’u some bait by th’ time y’u git breakfas’. 
My ole ’oman says I nuver yit fished ’ith a preacher, an’ 
as th’ ol’ Elder’s all th’ time preachin’ ’bout Jesus, an’ th’ 
’postles bein’ fishermen, by this time preachers must be 
th’ bigges’ fishermen in all the worl’. She wants me tuh 
go ’ith y’u an’ larn somethin’, an’ she said, ‘ Harve, I 
reckon y’u won’t be troubled ’ith no moonshine when y’u 
air ’ith a preacher, an’ won’t larn any new cuss words 
from ’em, nuther.’ My Lordy! Ef she’d air seen them 
things y’u’ve fotched ’long, she’d gin it all up an’ knowed 
ye hadn’t even rubbed y’uselves agin’ a fisherman.” 

Breakfast over, Mr. Gordon asked Mrs. Finley how 
much he owed her for the entertainment she had given 
them. The stooping figure of the woman came up 
straight as an arrow instantly, and firmly, and with pride, 
she said : I don’t take pay fer takin’ in people lost in 

th’ dark. I ain’t got much o’ anythin’, but whut’s heyeh’s 
yourn.” 


120 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


But/’ insisted Mr. Gordon, “ we have no claim upon 
you, madam, and your kindness saved us from passing a 
disagreeable night in the woods, without shelter or food 
for our horses or ourselves. Money cannot pay you, I 
admit, but we owe it to our self-respect and sense of jus- 
tice to pay you something.” 

He put in her hand ten shining half-dollar coins. 

She looked at them with greedy eyes, mentally counted 
them, and felt how much they would do for her when 
she made her next journey to the little store over Black 
Mountain, with a handful of farm produce for barter. 

For a moment, it seemed as if the demon of covetous- 
ness, seizing her necessities and those of her children as 
his plea, would conquer, but only for a moment, the in- 
domitable spirit of the mountaineer was victor the instant 
she came back in thought to the traditions of her people 
as to hospitality, and saw the image of Peter Finley, in 
his grave only a year, standing upon his native heath, 
gladly giving his all, if need be, to those who claimed his 
help. She handed back the money with a manner which 
made it impossible for Mr. Gordon to say more, saying: 

** Y’u’d better leave y’r critters heyeh an’ walk down 
th’ crick, as they won’t be no use when y’u air fishin’. 
Y’u’ll not be more ’an a mile from heyeh all day. Y’u 
kin cum back fer tuh-night, an’ I’ll sen’ Sis an’ Bub ’ith 
y’r dinners at twelve o’clock.” 

‘‘ Of all the pride I ever saw displayed, this beats it,” 
Mr. Gordon observed, when he had a private moment with 


121 


FISHING IN EARNEST 

Keith. “ We’ll have to find some way to pay these people. 
It will not do to accept their offer, for, if we decline, well 
have to reckon with Uncle Harve and have everything 
spoiled.” 

The fishermen found Uncle Harve at the bars waiting 
for them, with plenty of bait. He had minnows, hellgram- 
mites, and grasshoppers. He saluted them with ‘‘In a 
few steps from heyeh thar’s good fishin’. Heyeh’s a pole 
fer each o’ y’u. Be slow an’ min’ y’r capers, an’ don’t 
scar’ th’ fish so’s they’ll run under th’ rocks, an’ we’ll 
soon git a fine string.” 

The fishermen from foreign parts, when they looked at 
the tackle and felt the poles, had a sinking of heart, and 
then and there gave up hope of ever catching a fish. 

The creek was small and the water low. At many 
places it was easy to step across it, while at others, as it 
rippled over the rocks, singing a song of such music as 
blended with the arias of the mountain birds, who, with 
ecstasies, gave gladness forth to the air to be in tune 
with the trees and waters. 

The holes where the water swirled under banks, cov- 
ered with mosses and protected from crumbling by the 
roots of the trees, were first sought by the fishermen, as 
Uncle Harve directed. 

“ There hain’t no room to play ’em. Y’u jest give ’em 
time tuh swallow th’ bait and then jerk ’em out.” 

The minister got the first bite, and, in his eagerness, 
“ jest jerked ’em out,” and was chagrined to see his catch 


122 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


hanging in a tree about twelve feet above his head. It 
was too far up to reach and too firmly fastened in the tree 
to be pulled away. 

‘‘ Nothin’ fer it but tuh climb, I reckon,” Uncle Harve 
said, with a sly wink. “ That’s th’ way leetle boys do 
when they’s lamin’ tuh fish.” 

Fortunately, it was a leaning tree, and Mr. Gordon, 
after some effort, was able to climb far enough to reach 
his fish and bring him down. 

’Pon my life, I nuver seed such luck as we air havin’. 
Nothin’ but sun-fish, an’ they not good uns. Thar’s plenty 
in them holes, an’ why they won’t bite’s too much fer me, 
’less they’s afeered o’ preachers. Ef y’u don’t git some 
fish ’fore long. I’ll hev to go in grabbin’ an’ pull ’em 
out from under th’ roots an’ rocks ’ith my ban’s.” 

Keith hooked a fine green bass, and got him into 
his hands, but as this was the first one he had ever seen, 
and he was so pleased with its rare beauty, that while 
admiring it and showing it to his comrades, the fish 
flounced and slipped from his grasp into the water, and 
in a moment was out of sight under the bank. 

“ Jump in arter him — water hain’t deep,” Uncle Harve 
cried. '' Maybe y’u’ll know better arter y’u see a few 
more on ’em.” 

Down the creek the fishermen slowly made their way, 
and though it grew larger by receiving several branches, 
or little creeks, and looked more promising for fish, their 
“ luck was poor.” 


FISHING IN EARNEST 


123 


It was within a few minutes of twelve when a boy’s 
whistle was heard above them on the mountain slope, and 
Uncle Harve gave a shrill reply, which said : “ Here we 
are, come on ! ” in every cadence it sent forth. Bub 
parted the laurel bushes and appeared with a cedar pail 
in his hands, followed by Ruth with a split basket upon 
her head. Babe also came out of the bushes a moment 
later. 

‘‘Whar’s y’r fire an’ fish. Uncle Harve?” the girl 
asked at once. 

“ Hain’t got ’nuff fish tuh build a fire fer,” was the 
reply, which showed that the old man, if not out of 
humour, was depressed in spirits. 

“ Uncle Harve, y’u jest make a fire on them air rocks, 
an’ Bub ’ll have plenty o’ fish in a minit. Bub, git under 
that bank an’ throw ’em out,” Sis said, as she sat down 
her basket, and prepared to begin work. 

Bub rolled up his pants and shirt sleeves and walked 
boldly into the water, which was about two feet in depth, 
and, putting his hands under the roots and rocks, began to 
throw out green bass which weighed about a pound and 
a half, until a dozen of the beauties were flopping upon 
the rocky shore. 

That ’ll do. Bub,” Uncle Harve cried, from his seat on 
a rock, where he had taken the first fish Bub caught and 
was cleaning it. Y’u men fotch some dry sticks an’ 
we’ll soon hev whut ’ll make y’u’r ‘ mouths water.’ ” 

With flint and steel a fire was quickly started among 


124 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


the dry sticks, and, as soon as '' live coals ” could be had, 
Ruth, with Babe’s help, was broiling the fish and placing 
them upon a plate. Corn-bread and side bacon, with 
the addition of a few eggs and the broiled fish, to the 
hungry fishermen, was the best meal they had ever tasted. 

Ruth had no profusion of table linen with which to 
ornament the table spread in the wilderness,” but she 
made at least one of those present forget all loss from 
such causes by the influence of her presence. 

When the feast was over, and Ruth was gathering up 
her things preparatory to returning to the house, Keith 
made some attempt to be polite to her, which, by femi- 
nine instinct she felt, showed his admiration. Never hav- 
ing received attention from anyone of the other sex 
who had reached manhood, she was so startled, if not 
alarmed, that the lawyer soon saw that he would have to 
admire her from a distance. 

There was some little luck in the afternoon for all the 
fishermen, and Uncle Harve was very successful, catch- 
ing a fine string, which he declared was enough for both 
families. 

As they were going to the house, Mr. Gordon said, “ I 
wonder, Keith, if we cannot get Mrs. Finley to send her 
younger daughter to our school at Smith’s Court-House? 
Two or three years there would make a great difference 
in her, and I have money from a friend in New York 
City, which he wishes to have used for some such pur- 
pose.” 


FISHING IN EARNEST 


125 


** I don't think you could, unless you can get the girl 
herself so anxious to go as to use her power over the 
affections of the mother to induce her to consent to it. 
Mrs. Finley assuredly cannot afford it herself; if she 
could she would, I am sure, if she thought it best for her 
child. You had a sample of her pride this morning, and, 
after your signal defeat then, I suppose you are not eager 
to try it again." 

I am going to have a talk with the girl, anyhow," 
Mr. Gordon replied, “ and start her to thinking, and I 
can come this way again when going to the Court-House, 
as I must see the school there soon. It will be interesting 
to watch the effect of my experiment." 

When Uncle Harve had divided the fish and was about 
to go home, he said, Glad ye cum, hope tuh see ye some 
day agin. Preachers air good company, even 'ithout 
* moonshine ' an' sich." 

“Did you ever see Yellowboro, Uncle Harve?'’ 
Keith asked. 

“ No, I nuver seed no such place, but I hearn tell on it. 
Tom Pool tol' me a heap 'bout it when he was heyeh. 
Some time nex' winter I 'spec's tuh see it, ef whut I beam 
is so. I kinder think some men air there whut I wants 
tuh see an' speak tuh." 

“ Well," Mr. Keith answered, “ come to my office when 
you get to town and I will take you round, and do my 
utmost to give you a good time by showing you every- 
thing in the city." 


126 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


'' Wall, ril find y’u when I cums. Two ur three on 
us may cum in a wagon ’round t’other side o’ th’ moun- 
t’ins, an’ up th’ crick frum th’ Oakville way.” 

Mr. Gordon had a talk with Ruth, but got very little 
response to his plans. He only saw that she was inter- 
ested in what he was saying. If he had known the nature 
of the mountaineer he would have seen that he had started 
her thinking. When people of such tenacious natures 
think, something is more than likely to come of it. 

All the members of the family of Finley came forward 
and shook hands cordially with the strangers when they 
went away the next morning, except Ruth, who was not 
around when they left, much to the regret of Mr. Gor- 
don, but particularly of Keith. Ruth saw them, how- 
ever, not only when they left the house, but when they 
turned up the creek at the bottom of the ravine and took 
the road toward Yellowboro. 

As she looked out from the laurel bushes, Ruth’s eyes 
showed that she had been awakened, and had put on 
strength for a battle with herself, with her mother, and 
with the untoward circumstances of her forlorn condi- 
tion. This afterwards was to prove the power of a will 
to triumph over obstacles that the world deems almost 
insuperable, and do a work which can and will repeat its 
influence, when the victories of earth’s proudest con- 
querors have been forgotten. 


XIV 


AN ELECTION 

T he outing of our friends was the means of taking 
their thoughts from the persecutions of their 
enemies in Yellowboro. Hope and faith had fed 
upon the new visions and had been stimulated to fresh 
activities by what the mountains told them. 

The fury of their persecutors began to react 
against the manager’s party. Mr. Gordon noticed on a 
few Sabbaths, strange men — some without coats, and 
with the outline of pistols showing through their clothing 
— in church. They came after service had begun, and 
were quick to leave when it was over; but they showed 
an interest in everything, which was as pathetic as it 
was encouraging. 

As more and more of them came, the preacher was 
made to see that he was regarded as their friend, and 
that they had undertaken to see that he was unharmed 
and cared for. Nor was this all that happened, for, when 
some of the weak and vacillating found that the natives ” 
had chosen to go to this church, they themselves re- 
turned, and began to talk about our ” church and what 

127 


128 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

our ” preacher was doing for the people of the moun- 
tains. 

Men now rushed up to Mr. Gordon, with great effusion, 
and asked after his health, who had passed him without 
as much as a nod when meeting him on the street a few 
weeks before. 

The robbed and cheated, who had not money enough 
left to get away from the town, came to him for friend- 
ship and counsel, and all who had felt the iron hand of 
cupidity and persecution, saw in him a man who, if he 
could not give them the aid they needed, yet would not 
betray and leave them to the fury of those who had 
wronged them. 

Keith also felt the force of the reaction, in the 
coming to him of those who had been cheated by false 
representations, and by the rapacity of the horde of 
hangers-on of the Land Company. Most of the lawyers 
were either in the employ of this company, or under so 
many obligations to it for ‘'pickings,'^ that they either 
would not, or feared to, take a case against it. 

Mr. Keith had acquired the reputation of being a 
lawyer who was not afraid of the gang,” and whom 
the “ gang ” was trying to run out of business, and this 
brought to him all the elements now opposed to such 
high-handed and unjust doings. 

He was really a lawyer of ability, and quite able to 
effectually present his client^s cause. It soon began to 
be seen that a mistake had been made in attempting his 


AN ELECTION 


129 


intimidation, and that many of the crooked dealings of 
the company were in danger of being brought to light 
and shown up. 

What actually brought most confusion into the ranks 
of the gang ” was that, in their haste and greediness, 
they had not looked up the titles of much of the land they 
had paid for, as they should have done; and, as 
Keith soon found this out, and intended to protect his 
clients, they were at their wits’ end for some way of escape 
from their doom. 

How the natives found out everything that was 
going on in all parts of the town and were in constant 
readiness to meet every case of misrule and wrong-doing, 
has not been known unto this day. It was certain, how- 
ever, that what was done in secret was soon known in the 
coves and on the mountain sides, and that hearts that 
knew no fear had at their service hands which had all 
skill to circumvent those who maligned and made sport of 
the mountaineer and his ways. 

The manager and his party found it necessary to have 
one of their creatures put in the sheriff’s office of the 
county, that he might manipulate the drawing of jurors 
and do their bidding in crooked ways. They were sure 
that they could control the ensuing election, and so con- 
fident of the success of their plans to count these men in, 
that, when Thompson announced himself as a candidate 
for the office, they laughed in derision at his foolishness 
in thinking he could be elected. They admitted that he 


130 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


would carry the county in the precincts outside of the 
city, as the people were largely of the political party to 
which he belonged; but, in the town, where the balance 
of power was, they intended to cast enough votes to 
make sure of the election of their tool, and count him 
in without regard either to law or to honesty. 

When the polls opened upon election day, it was seen 
that only those who were against Thompson were to be 
allowed to vote. A great crowd had gathered and was 
standing in the street long before the time for the voting 
to begin, and as it was known that most of the persons in 
it were for Thompson, and had come early, so that they 
might vote and then go to their work, the election officers, 
who were in the ring to defeat him, determined not to 
open the polls for a time. 

The crowd continued to grow until the streets were 
so blocked up as to stop all traffic, and, indeed, all 
passing. 

The cry went up to “ open the polls.” Disregarded, 
it grew stronger and stronger, and, as whiskey had been 
freely given out and the people from the mountains, who 
voted in the town, were now coming in, the officers be- 
came so much alarmed that at last, two hours after time, 
they opened the polls and began to receive votes. 

The plan they adopted was to have the sheriff, with his 
deputies, stand at the door of the room where they were 
holding the election, and by the ostentatious display of 
arms to force back all of Thompson’s men as they ap- 


AN ELECTION 


131 


peared, and to bring- in the men who would vote against 
him, filling the room with them and then closing the door 
to allow them a protracted time to cast their votes. When 
these men had voted, they were to be put out by the back 
door, the front door was again opened, and another crowd 
admitted of similar character, and a like process was gone 
through. Thus they intended to take as much time as 
possible and be able to close the polls before any, or very 
few, of the Thompson supporters had voted. 

Such a scheme might work in some places and in some 
countries, and among such populations as had bowed to 
the yoke, but in the mountains of Kentucky, and with 
such men as Thompson and his followers, it was an ex- 
hibition of folly which was too small even to be con- 
temptible. 

It was quickly made evident that the plan had to be 
abandoned, or the place would be deluged with blood and 
the manager and his party either slain or driven out of 
the county. 

** Thompson, does y’u see whut them Hessians air up 
tuh doin’,’^ Tom Pool exclaimed as he ran up to his leader. 
He had been pushed away from the door by a crowd of 
men and held in so close that he could not draw his 
pistols. His face was pale, but not a nerve in his body 
trembled, and his voice, without any outward excitement, 
had taken a pitch some notes higher than ordinary, which 
means to those who hear it that the time for parleying is 
past, and the moment of battle has come. 


132 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


“ Yes, Tom, I see it, and you and Bob can get the men 
together as soon as you can. It’s to be death or a fair 
election, and that right off. If they think they can come 
into this county and take the right of votin’ from us, they 
are mighty mistaken.” 

** I kinder thinks so myself. Hurrah fer Thompson ! ” 
was the reply, and he rushed hither and thither speaking 
to certain tall and thin men who were standing on the 
outskirts of the crowd. These men, without hurrahing 
themselves, spoke to others of like appearance and senti- 
ment until forty or more were gathered together on the 
side of the polling place. 

It was a strange sight, Thompson seated upon the 
shoulders of two tall, strong men, and shouting : All 
men who are for Thompson come this way ! ” It was 
repeated until the crowd thinned out in front of the house, 
and gathered on the vacant lot at the side of it, where 
the farce of an election was going on. 

Two- thirds or more of the men assembled there went 
into this crowd, among them every negro present. These 
negroes, workers in the coal-mines around the city, were 
principally from the far South. They were of the pol- 
itical party of Thompson, and did not care what the other 
party said or did, so they had the right to vote. 

It was not intended that these men should come near 
the polls. They were to be taught the lesson, right then 
and there, that they were not to presume to come to the 
polls as they did in Mississippi and Alabama. 


AN ELECTION 


133 


This was reckoning without their host with a venge- 
ance, in the mountains of Kentucky, as the friends of 
Thompson had either fought in the Federal army or 
were the sons of men who had; and it was their purpose 
that every negro should vote who was entitled to by the 
laws of the State. 

If the manager and his party had been wise, all efforts 
to hold an election after their plan would now have been 
abandoned, but, as desperate men, they took desperate 
chances. 

Thompson gathered his men, and told the negroes to 
form into as solid a mass as possible and come in behind 
the men from the mountains. Keep close step and 
press against the man in front of you, and don't let any- 
one come between you and him. If I give the word, 
press harder and harder, so that you will become a part 
of a force which will be as that of one man. When I say 
“ Stop," you must stop and stand straight. If there is 
any shootin' you must let me and my men do it. In no 
case must you fight — not in any way. We will do that, 
and if you see us fightin', you just stand in your places 
and see us clean out all these people." 

It was done, and the mountaineers, to the number of 
a hundred or more, began to move with Thompson, a 
Colt's army revolver in each hand, still on the shoulders 
of two of his followers. 

The men at the voting-place did not give way, but 
when the head of the column met them, the force was so 


134 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


great that they were either pressed to one side or forced 
forward against the door. 

Slowly and surely went on the sturdy mountain leader, 
while the cries, Hurrah for Thompson ! ” drowned 
every other sound. How the negroes yelled ! They took 
up the song, “ John Brown's Body,” and, with heads 
thrown back, sang it until the mountains rang with the' 
sound. 

The sheriff and his deputies, with guns cocked and 
aimed, ordered Thompson to disperse his followers 
and himself to go away under penalty of being shot at 
once. 

** Tom, don’t be a fool and get killed,” Thompson said. 
“ All we want’s a fair election, and I give you the word 
of a Thompson that we’ll let every legal vote be 
cast that’s for you, but we are going to cast all of 
ours.” 

This was accompanied by the potent argument of a 
hundred aimed rifles. 

The few mountaineers with the sheriff stood fast, 
but those behind them made such a noise falling over 
chairs and other things in their haste to get away, that 
the sheriff looked around to see if he was being charged 
from the rear, and seeing that those who had forced him 
into his present unpleasant and dangerous position, 
were either fleeing or fled, he lowered his weapons, 
growling: 

“ You cowards ! 


AN ELECTION 


136 


** Thompson, you’ve earned your election.” 

The manager and his party talked much of contestr 
ing the majority that was rolled up for the mountaineer 
candidate and of throwing out the entire vote of the city, 
but nothing ever came of it but threats. 


XV 


THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 

T he desire to have a Sunday School outside of the 
town became so strong among a number of per- 
sons, that Mr. Gordon started one to be held in the 
afternoons. A wagon was hired to take out the teachers, 
and quite a large company of scholars came together 
every Sunday. 

The school was a curiosity to the people, as none among 
them had ever seen one. The oldest scholar was a 
Baptist preacher, who had been preaching for almost 
forty years, and was approaching seventy years of age. 
He came to see what was being done, and was invited to 
sit with Mrs. Gordon^s class, who had joined her husband 
some time before, and in the following weeks he became 
a regular attendant. 

At first he listened with a look which was indescribable, 
later on he showed interest, and finally became so intent 
on learning that he was rarely absent from his seat. He 
would not ask or answer questions, but no student ever 
made his desire to learn more apparent. 

** Uncle Henry, who’d V thought y’u’d go tuh school 

136 


'THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 137 

tuh a ’oman, an’ her no Baptis’,” said a friend to him 
one day. 

Wall, I wouldn’t ’a’ thought it myself. I didn’t min’ 
tuh, I jest took it intuh my head tuh see whut them air 
strangers were a-doin’ on, an’ so I sot thar fer a spell tuh 
fin’ out. I hain’t hearn her say nothin’ agin’ Baptis’ 
teachin’, an’ I’ve watched like a hawk. She knows a 
heap sight more o’ th’ Bible than I does, an’ kin fin’ all 
th’ places in a whipstich an’ tell y’u whut David an’ Dan’l 
an’ Paul an’ John says ’bout all them things whut we 
ought to know ’bout, an’ she talks tuh ye as ef she hed th’ 
Lord right with her an’ a-tellin’ her whut tuh say tuh ye. 

She’s made me put on my studyin’ cap an’ read my 
book more tuh fin’ out if she were a-tellin’ th’ truth, than 
I uver did in all my born days. I hain’t cotch her nary 
time yit. I bin layin’ out tuh ask her ’bout th’ river 
Jurdan an’ John th’ Baptis’ fer some time an’ see ef I 
can’t cotch her, but her do go on so beautiful an’ seem so 
wrap’ up in whut she am a-sayin’, that I gits carried ’way 
so I jest can’t do it, an’ so puts it off ’til nex’ time, an’ nex’ 
time hain’t cum yit. 

“ Her an’ th’ preacher air cumin’ tuh my house tuh 
see me, an’ then I’ll jest let ’em know a thing or two 
’bout th’ water an’ John th’ Baptis’.” 

** But y’u go an’ sets an’ larns from a ’oman an’ y’r’s 
bin tellin’ us all y’ur life that th’ ’oman hain’t as good an’ 
smart as th’ man, an’ she oughtn’t tuh take off her sun- 
bonnet in meetin’ nur hev nothin’ tuh say,” was the reply. 


138 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


“ Wall, I knows, I knows, an’ yit it’s jest this heyeh 
way. Ef th’ fines’ an’ bes’ pitcher y’u hez got jest sets on 
th’ shelf an’ nuver hev a drap o’ milk in it frum year en’ 
tuh year en’, an’ jest says tuh y’u, ‘ Look at me. I’m 
mighty purty,’ an’ th’ poor common pitcher air al’ays full 
o’ sweet, pure milk, must y’u say, ' I won’t drink any o’ 
th’ milk ’ jest because it air in th’ common pitcher an’ not 
in th’ fine one ’? I tells y’u, I’m goin’ tuh drink th’ milk 
jest whar I kin git it. It’s good milk — ‘ th’ sincare milk 
o’ th’ Word ’ — ^an’ I’m thrivin’ on it,” Uncle Harve re- 
plied. 

** But whut ’ll folks say when they hears it up tuh 
Salem Meetin’-House? Won’t they thinks y’u’re goin’ 
tuh jine th’ ' New Lights,’ an’ be mighty mad? ” was the 
answer. 

“ Don’t know, an’, not givin’ y’u a short answer, don’t 
kere. She hain’t tol’ me nothin’ but whut’s in th’ Book, 
an’ when she does. I’m goin’ tuh tell her so, an’ jest git up 
an’ go outen that place as fas’ as I kin go. She don’t 
preten’ tuh be a preacher an’ don’t put on no airs, hut’s 
plain like an’ asts only fer her Master tuh be beared an’ 
trusted. 

“ Then do y’u see who she’s got in that air class ? 
Thar’s Jim Hicks, who’s killed three men whut we kno>ws 
on, an’ how many more th’ Lord only knows, an’s wanted 
fer murder in Tennessee an’ Virginy both. Jest y’u 
watch him how his hungerin’ eyes looks into hern when 
she tells him o’ mercy in Jesus. An’ thar’s Tim Miles. 


THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 


139 


He^s killed two men in this neck o’ woods, an’ now out o’ 
jail on bail. An’ Tom Simpson. He’s killed one man, 
an’ he’s scarce outen his teens, an’ this very summer he’s 
bin a-layin’ fer his own brother tuh put a bullet in his 
head ur his heart. An’ that other man whut cums outen 
th’ woods, every Sunday, we don’t know nothin’ ’bout, 
only he mus’ be heyeh fer somethin’ he’s done not 
ordered in th’ ten commandmen’s. Now ef she kin git 
at them air men, which nobody else kin do, jest let her do 
it, ’s my say.” 

** Whut good ’s it do ’em. I’d like tuh know ? They 
cums jest tuh hev some place tuh go,” was the answer to 
this. 

“Le’ me tell ye, young man, that Tom Simpson tol’ a gal 
he’s sparkin’ that he’d nuver hearn tell o’ nothin’ like whut 
she’s bin sayin’ tuh him, an’ that he’s changed his min’ 
’bout shootin’ people an’ he only wishes he’d hearn tell 
on it afore. He got this gal tuh git word sent tuh his 
brother tuh cum home, an’ he’ll not hurt him, but ’ll live 
in peace with him as he’s seen how bad he’s bin, an’ 
wants tuh begin a new life an’ live differen’. Ef she 
nuver does nothin’ more in all her born days, that’s more 
’an all th’ preachers ’roun’ heyeh hev ever done, an’ I’m 
not goin’ tuh put myself afore th’ wheels o’ Zion tuh stop 
’em goin’ ’round, I tell ye ! ” 

Mr. and Mrs. Gordon undertook to visit some of the 
people who were not attending the Sunday School, and dis- 
covered strange things. The first visit was to Captain ” 


140 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Tipps, who had been the leader of one of the worst feuds 
which had desolated the region around Yellowboro. 
He had killed a number of men with his own hand, and 
had been the cause of the death of many more. He had 
been badly wounded several times, and lain out in the 
mountains like a wild beast, getting over his wounds 
without surgical attention. He was always guarded at 
home and abroad by at least one armed man, and day and 
night was on the watch himself. 

Many efforts had been made to arrest him on warrants 
from Tennessee, and all had failed. Every tree had been 
cut away and all brush removed within rifle-range of his 
house, so that no man could get near enough to shoot him 
without being seen. 

Mr. Gordon had been advised to keep away from him 
as there was always more or less danger in approaching 
such a man, who might be under the influence of “ moon- 
shine ” whiskey, or mistake a stranger for someone with 
a warrant. 

He would not be dissuaded by such advice and boldly 
went forward, on what he conceived to be the line of duty. 
When near enough to see through the open door the 
people moving in the two-roomed log-cabin, it was clear 
that the inmates were disturbed. 

The minister and his wife came to the door, and, knock- 
ing, a gruff and surly voice said, '' Come in ! On 
entering the room they found its furniture limited to two 
beds and a number of split-bottom chairs. The walls 


THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 


141 


were of unhewn logs, un jointed, and the spaces between 
them were filled with chips, held in place by red clay. 
There was no window, but there were three doors, — two 
opening upon the outside, and one into the next room — 
which was what the Scotch call a “ lean-to.” 

Two faded, tired-looking women and several chil- 
dren were in the room, and one of the women was hold- 
ing in her arms a child, seemingly about three years of 
age, and evidently sick. Upon one of the beds lay a pair 
of pistols, within reach of a large surly-looking man, 
clothed only in two garments, whose attitude and appear- 
ance showed alertness and determination. 

As Mr. Gordon took in the room with his quick glance, 
he saw through a space in the logs separating it from the 

lean-to,” that he was covered by a rifle. If he had as 
much as stepped toward “ Captain ” Tipps, he would have 
been a dead man. He was not asked to be seated, and 
feeling the tension of the situation, more than seeing it, 
he said : “ I am the new minister in Yellowboro, and we 
have a Sunday School over at Johnston’s place on Sunday 
afternoons. I have come to ask if you and your family 
will attend it.” 

The captain had never been to a school in his life. His 
ideas about it were those he had gained from the outside 
of the log-cabin school-houses, which he passed on the 
mountain paths and into which he may have crept some 
stormy night for shelter, when hunted by enemies, or the 
officers of the law. To have a school of any kind in 


142 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Johnston’s house, unless it was one to teach how best to 
find and kill one’s foes he could not understand. 

Johnston’s house had been the principal fort for the 
opposite side in the feud of which he had been the leader, 
and the lead now in its walls showed how it had been 
attacked. Mr. Gordon did not know that at the time, or 
he would scarcely have thought of asking this outlaw 
chief to come to this place. 

During the interview, the man in the other room, 
called by a sign from Captain ” Tipps, came in to see the 
visitors. 

Mrs. Gordon had taken a seat by the mother and sick 
child, and was showing her interest by such feminine arts 
as women understand, and through which there is such 
a comity of joys and sorrows in all conditions of life. 

The attention to his sick child touched this man, whose 
word was law to so many daring mountaineers, and who 
was so feared that when he walked the streets of the city 
men went into the back-rooms of their stores and closed 
the doors. His manner became gentle, and he even asked 
his guests to be seated, saying that he was ready to hear 
what they had to say to him about school. 

So is came about that after spending a half-hour in the 

lion’s den,” Mr. Gordon departed with the captain’s 
promise to come to hear him preach, and to send his 
children to Sunday School. 

The children were not, however, sent to the school, but 
one Sunday morning the captain himself, with a guard 


143 


THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 

all armed to the teeth, came into the church, to the amaze- 
ment of all the congregation, and the alarm of many of 
them, and listened with apparent interest to all that was 
said. 

Another place visited by Mr. and Mrs. Gordon was the 
cabin of John Robinson, a leader on the other side of the 
feud. Robinson and his “ ’oman were at home, and 
some children were also in the house. It was easy to 
see that visitors were not welcome, and that he intended 
to show it. 

No doubt, he had watched the preacher and his wife 
and knew what cabin they had already visited, which was 
the last place on this earth from which to come, if anyone 
wanted to ask him for anything. He made Mr. Gordon 
see that he would not allow his children to go to the 
Sunday School, and that he would not go himself. 

He had three, perhaps more, wives, and maintained his 
numerous families by giving each a cabin and a few acres 
of land. When he tired of one wife, — not that he was 
married to her, — he left her in her cabin, and took the 
children away to another, built for some new woman of 
whom he had possessed himself. 

He had done this so many times, that there were 
several sets of children in the cabin where he was now 
living, though only one wife. 

He cut wood and had it hauled for the discarded ones, 
but left them to themselves, except when another man 
came around. When this happened, he appeared on the 


144 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


scene with his gun, and someone was shot, or the wife 
returned and kept to her loneliness. 

Strange to relate, there was in that poor cabin a cheap 
organ, which some enterprising drummer had induced 
Robinson to buy on the instalment plan. Mrs. Gordon, 
attempting to add interest to the interview, spoke of it; 
being there amid such surroundings it filled her with 
wonder, and she asked how it got there, and if anyone 
in the cabin could play it. No one had been able to use 
it since the agent had left it; and Robinson, anxious to 
hear it again, asked Mrs. Gordon if she could play on the 
thing. 

She never accustomed herself to play without notes, 
but, opening the organ, she endeavoured, as best she could, 
to play “Martyn ” and other* familiar tunes. Robinson 
and the children were entranced, and when Mrs. Gordon 
could not remember other tunes, he begged her to play 
the same ones over and over. His whole manner 
changed, and when his daughter, seeing her opportunity, 
told him that she wanted to go to the school, he promised 
her that she might. 

“ My dear,” said Mr. Gordon on their way home, “ I 
believe more than ever that music hath charms to soothe 
the savage breast.” 


XVI 


A CHRISTMAS TREE 

W HEN Christmas drew near, the workers in the 
little mountain Sunday School resolved to have 
a Christmas tree. 

None of the scholars had ever seen one, and when it 
was mentioned, judging from the questions which they 
asked, it filled them with strong emotions. Some 
thought they were to go into the woods and do something 
to a tree which would have an effect in some hidden and 
mysterious way upon it and the country, and others be- 
lieved they intended to charm them into their ways of 
thinking, by calling up spirits. 

Uncle Henry at once drew away. He was fully con- 
vinced that it was of the Pope, of whom he had heard in 
some vague way, and whom he believed hot only to be 
in the service of the devil, but able to draw people into 
the devil’s-work. His ideas of the Pope and the devil 
were a mixture of folk lore ” and truth, both ludicrous 
and sad. 

The house in which the school met, though occupied by 
an old negro woman, was in litigation, pending a settle- 
ment by the courts as to its proper owner. This old aunty 

145 


146 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


said, when asked for the use of the house, that she would 
let anybody have it who would “ fit ” the devil. 

Fse nuver seen nor hearn tell o’ the kin’ y’u is, but 
if you’s a-wantin’ to fit the devil, this is the place an’ 
now’s the time.” 

The old negro was much excited about the Christmas 
tree, as her young missus ” had read her, when she was 
a little girl, about one in the “ old country.” She was 
ready to get a dinner for the ladies who came to put up 
and prepare the tree, and, to be sure of having enough 
help, she got several women to come and work with 
her. 

In few places would it be more easy to secure a tree 
for such a purpose than on that mountain side. One of 
the young lady teachers volunteered to select it, and ready 
and strong hands among the older male scholars were 
more than willing to aid her in cutting and taking it to 
the cabin. 

The merchants of Yellowboro had no stock of orna- 
ments for Christmas tree decorations, although having a 
goodly supply of fireworks for the season of “ Peace on 
earth, good-will to men,” and the ingenuity of the trim- 
mers of the tree was taxed to find anything as suitable 
substitutes. 

Popcorn and cranberries, with tarlatan, used in con- 
nection with silver paper, and a liberal addition of cotton 
batting, in the skilful hands of ladies from another portion 
of the State — made, however, quite a presentable tree, 


A CHRISTMAS TREE 147 

when the presents of candy, which were put up in bags 
njade of tarlatan, and the oranges were hung upon it. 

Mrs. Gordon declared, when the work on the tree was 
all done, as she stood and looked it over, that she had 
never known the possibilities concealed in tarlatan and 
popcorn in her life until she now saw this tree in its 
complete glory. 

The exercises had been fixed for half-past two o’clock, 
but by ten in the morning some of the young women were 
at the house. They made no offer to help in any way, and 
though reminded that the exercises were for the school, 
and would not begin for four hours, they ignored the 
hint ; and making no reply, just sat and looked on at the 
preparing of the tree. 

Mrs. Gordon, a close observer of womenkind,” could 
observe absolutely no change of expression on their faces. 
They sat and looked without sign of what was passing 
in their minds. 

At the beginning of the exercises, Mr. Gordon tried to 
tell something of the origin and history of the custom of 
having a Christmas tree. In a simple way he described 
our fathers in the countries across the great ocean, and 
how they were led into the land when it was a wilderness, 
and how Christmas time reminded them of the country 
from which they had been led, and of the homes and 
churches they had left. 

He told them of the coming of Jesus, and spoke of Him 
as a little babe, and of His mother and her hopes and 


148 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

fears. He showed them that love to man was the cause 
of all this plan of God, and of its perfect fulfilment at 
Christmas time in the gift, of Christ. The gift of Himself 
was the way He had of drawing us to Him, and of get- 
ting us to give ourselves to His service. 

As they listened, there came to the faces of the older 
people — for the house was crowded by the fathers and 
mothers of the children — a look, first of surprise 'that 
they had come to a religious meeting, and then gleams 
of intelligence, showing that they had heard the simple 
story of the birth of Jesus in words which they could 
understand for the first time, and that they were moved 
by it to higher and nobler thoughts than had hitherto been 
the occupants of their minds. 

Two of the stolid young women who had watched the 
preparing of the tree seemed unmoved by Mr. Gordon’s 
remarks: but they gazed at the tr'ee in such manner, 
that some who saw them could scarcely restrain their 
tears, as they saw through their great hungry eyes, like 
windows, hearts starved by lifelong repression and lack 
of kindness. 

The teachers cut the bags of candy and oranges from 
the tree, and coming to them among the first, offered 
each the portion due, but they emphatically refused to 
take anything with a decision marked by such emphasis 
as to disconcert the donors. 

After the small children had each received what was a 
treasure to them, and the visitors were also given a por- 


A CHRISTMAS TREE 


149 


tion, a lady went to these young women and told them 
“ that it was always expected that all who attended the 
school should have these tokens of love and kindness from 
the teachers, and that their feelings would be hurt if they 
refused to take the presents.” 

Nobody nuver gin us nothin', an' why should y'u 
uns do it ? '' one of them asked. 

Because this is Christmas and we wish to give to you 
for the sake of Jesus, who was born at this time, and thus 
gave Himself for us,” she replied. 

We'll pay y'u fer it, an' then we'll take it,” was the 
reply. 

No, we do not even take a collection on this day. 
We give it to you freely, as Jesus gave Himself. You 
must take it as if it came from Him.” 

It was a hard struggle in the minds of these mountain 
girls. It was true that they had never been given any- 
thing by any one except their father, and very little by 
him. They were clothed in cheap calico dresses made by 
their own hands after patterns that had been in the family 
for generations, and wore sunbonnets of green gingham, 
with yellow spots — the bonnets being square in front and 
projecting four inches or more beyond their faces. To 
them, work, and the fruits of it, were the only rewards of 
life, and love, if felt, was to be hidden, and had no gifts 
to make its existence known. 

After more persuasion, and some consultation, without 
the use of words however, they took the candy and 


150 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

oranges. It was the first “ store candy ” they had ever 
had, and probably the first orange they had ever seen, 
unless in the windows of the Yellowboro stores. 

But their happiness was not in all cases long-lived, for 
one of these girls was met, by her father, who de- 
manded to know if she had tasted the things. She had 
not, and he took them away from her and destroyed 
them, saying that he hoped to wipe out the disgrace she 
had brought upon his family by taking presents from 
‘‘them folks without askin’ him. He’d let ’em know 
that he could get all his gals needed, an’ no thanks to 

ff 

cm. 

This man was a type. He was now rich, having sold a 
part of his property to the Yellowboro Company, but, 
holding on to some hundreds of acres immediately join- 
ing the city, which he was now selling off in building 
lots. Some of them brought him more than the whole 
tract of land could have been sold for before the days of 
the “ boom.” Yet he continued to live in his cabin, and 
was proud of his insignia of poverty. He did not know 
the use of money, and his haggard face and nervous man- 
ner gave proof that his happiness was about destroyed 
by the coming of his wealth. 

A bank clerk once tried to confuse him in his accounts 
in the bank, and steal something from him. The moun- 
taineer saw through this like a flash of light, and did not 
argue a moment, but demanded the full tale of his money 
on the instant, and when the smart young man, finding 


A CHRISTMAS TREE 


151 


himself caught, tried to hem and haw ” over the matter, 
hoping to confuse the “ barbarian,” as he called him, the 
mountaineer “ pulled his gun ” and did not put it up until 
the last dollar he had in the bank was in his pocket and he 
was out of it, and in the street on his way home. 

The people sang from our well-known Moody and 
Sankey gospel hymns, but it was difficult to get the grown 
people and the larger children to sing from a book. It was 
a rare thing to see a book of hymns or songs in the moun- 
tains at any of their meetings, except the one brought 
by the “ rider,” as they named the Methodist preacher. 
The Baptists “ lined out ” their hymns from memory, 
and sang them a line at a time, if the sounds could be 
called singing, A book with the notes was a strange 
thing and was looked upon with suspicion. Then they 
could not understand the choruses, and would not sing. 
The little children, though, caught the songs quickly, and 
made them ring out in the school and afterwards at home, 
so that the native love for music, dormant in the parents 
for so long, was given life and exercise, aud slowly sing- 
ing became a part of the worship enjoyed by them with 
all their hearts. 

The few Christmas songs in the book did full duty 
that day, and the memory of them was a delight. 

Uncle Henry, when his grandchildren brought home 
their gifts and told him, not with the glad faces and 
accents of joy of our little ones, but in the self-contained 
way which even the children of mountain people ever 


152 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


maintained, of what had happened and how much they 
enjoyed it all, said in solemn tones, as he shook his hoary 
head many times in his pulpit, manner : — 

“ It do beat all I uver hearn tell on, an’ I jest do wonder 
whut’s goin’ tuh happen nex’. Steam cyars an’ sich, an’ 
cyars that runs ’ithout steam, by whut no man kin fin’ 
out, but th’ devil a-pullin’ ’em, I ’spect. An’ lights a 
cumin’ frum no whar, an’ a drawin’ even th’ bugs tuh 
’em — let ’lone folks. An’ water a-goin’ everywhar, in th’ 
streets an’ in th’ houses, an’ now these heyeh people a 
cumin’ an’ puttin’ up trees in houses an’ a-kiverin’ on ’em 
with silvery things an’ bags an’ oranges, fer no other 
resun than jest to gin ’em away tuh leetle children an’ 
folks as is nothin’ to ’em, ’s too' much fer me, let me tell 
ye! That air ’oman whut teaches is mighty smart an’ 
kalkulated tuh do a heap o’ good, but sich goin’s-on as 
they’s hed this Chris’mas hev unhinged me, an’ I am jest 
out an’ I ’spects I’ll hev tuh stay out. It looks tuh me 
that th’ en’ I hez done bin preachin’ ’bout am most heyeh, 
an’ th’ ol’ days o’ meetin’ under y’ur own vine an’ fig 
tree am gone furever. We ol’ uns air ’bout sealed up an’ 
done fer, an’ I’ll hev tuh go back in th’ mount’ins whar 
these ‘ new fangled thin’s ’ hev nuver bin beam tell 
on. 

Who can wonder that the old man felt and talked as 
he did, when all his habits of thought and feeling and 
action, hardened and fixed by many years of trial and 
work, were plunged without warning into a new 


A CHRISTMAS TREE 


153 


world, which had little patience with his dulness of ap- 
prehension and his slowness. He and his kind could 
not change, and therefore must always go down be- 
fore what men are fond of calling “ the march of civi- 
lisation.” 


XVII 


UNCLE HARVE’S VISIT 

M r. GORDON on his way to the post-office turned 
the corner of the street upon which the office was 
located, and saw a man very much confused by 
the crowd that was gathered at that place every morning 
except Sunday. A coat and an old wool hat, the rim of 
which flopped down and hid the upper part of his face, 
so disguised Uncle Harve that Mr. Gordon did not at 
first know him. But as he came nearer the bewildered 
man, he recognised his mountain friend and extended his 
hand to him in cordial greeting. 

The face of the old man changed its entire expression 
as soon as he saw by whom he was addressed, and trans- 
ferring his Winchester to his left hand, his right went out 
to Mr. Gordon for a mountain grip of recognition and 
confidence. 

“ Bin astin’ an^ lookin' fer y’u an' that Keith man every- 
whar. Mought as well look fer a needle in a hay-stack 
as fer a man in this heyeh rush an' cum back on it. It’s 
wus than a hailstorm when out a-deer-huntin', when y’u 
kain’t see a soul nur heyeh th’ dogs. I’d jest ’bout made 
up my min’ tuh go back on me tracks an’ git tuh a place 
whar a man kin heyeh somethin’ 'sides screackes, an’ see 

154 


UNCLE HARVE’S VISIT 155 

somethin’ ’cept houses ; but thar’s some folks ’bout heyeh 
I’se jest got tuh see ’fore I goes back.” 

While Uncle Harve was talking, Mr. Gordon was 
drawing him gently out of the crowd and leading him 
towards Keith’s office. 

I am ever so glad to see you,” Mr. Gordon said. 
'' I hope your sick daughter is quite well by this time. 
How are all the Finleys? ” 

My gal’s well ’nough tuh be out yander in th’ wagon. 
Sis an’ Bub Finley’s ’ith her. I fotch ’em ’long that they 
mought bring somethin’ tuh sell that they’s got, an’ so 
they mought see some o’ thar kin-folks, whut lives a mat- 
ter o’ a mile ur two up th’ cove from this heyeh place.” 

When they came to the four-story brick and stone 
building in which Keith had his office. Uncle Harve, look- 
ing at its front from the opposite side of the street, 
stopped stock-still, and gazed with wide-open eyes and 
mouth. In the corner of the building was an up- 
to-date family supply store, with a display of fruit, both 
green and dried, in its windows. Hanging from a beam, 
outside the window, was a large bunch of bananas. 

All the time they were crossing the street Uncle Harve 
looked into this window as if he was fascinated. He had 
never seen anything like a pineapple or other tropical 
fruits, nor even heard of them. He did not understand 
that they were for eating; indeed, the sight of them jest 
obfuscated ” him, as he said when he got home. When 
he slowly raised his eyes, with the dignity becoming a 


166 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


mountaineer of his standing and saw the bunch of 
bananas, his power to resist a show of surprise was 
broken down utterly. 

** ril be gosh darned, ef them hain’t th’ bigges’ beans 
I uver seed in all me bom days! See heyeh, Mr. 
Preacher, I’d like tuh know how big that air vine wuz 
whut growed ’em ? ” 

Mr. Gordon knew it would not do to laugh or show 
any unusual concern, as he did not wish to hurt the old 
man’s feelings. He had therefore to control himself and 
get him to go up the two flights of stairs to Keith’s office. 
This he succeeded in doing, after a while, and when he 
had him seated in an arm chair, with a stuffed leather 
seat, and fronting the roller-top desk, he excused himself 
upon the plea of going to look Keith up. 

Uncle Harve was holding his gun firmly in his grasp, 
and slowly trying to acquaint himself with the nature of 
his surroundings, when the two young men came into 
the office. 

It’s a real treat to see you. When did you come to 
the city? ” Keith said, as, with genuine pleasure in his 
face, he welcomed the old man. 

'' Jest a leetle while ago, I reckon, but fer a fac’, I’m 
mos’ afeered tuh say, things am so curious heyehabouts. 
S’pose I’ve got tuh let Mandy an’ Sis an’ Bub Finley see 
all these quar things, bein’ as they’s done cum so fer frum 
home tuh see ’em. Blast my ol’ eyes, ef I don’t wish 
I hed ’em all safe back in our own range agin. Young 


UNCLE HARVE’S VISIT 


157 


folks hain’t seasoned ’null tub see whut’s spread out 
'roun heyeh ’fore y’r eyes ’ithout bein’ flustered an’ beat 
out by em, I kin’ o’ reckon.” 

Keith flushed when he heard that Ruth Finley was 
with the old man. He had been trying to work out some 
plan by which he could see her again and had concluded 
that he would try a deer-hunt, when the right time of the 
year came round. Now she was in the city, and he could 
at least meet her, even if she would not talk to him. 

“Where are the young people?” Mr. Gordon asked, 
coming to Keith’s help. 

“ Out,en th’ wagon yander across th’ road whar that air 
engine runs. I don’t know’s I kin fin’ ’em right handy, 
I’se so turned round an’ up a tree, but let’s go fer them 
young folks. I’ve bin from ’em a mighty long time, I 
reckon they thinks.” 

The well-dressed minister and lawyer, walking upon 
each side of the old mountaineer, armed with a Win- 
chester and two revolvers, “ cut a queer figure,” as they 
went down the pavement of the principal street in the 
city. 

“ Somebody either dying or dead, I suppose.” “ Just 
like these fellows, hobnobbing with the wild men of the 
mountains.” “ Wonder where they are going and for 
what,” were some of the comments made by the people 
seeing them. 

Passing by where Mr. Gordon lived. Uncle Harve was 
persuaded to go into the house for a few minutes and to 


158 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

be introduced to Mrs. Gordon, who gave him a most cor- 
dial welcome to Yellowboro. 

Although very simply dressed, the material and style 
of her clothing were so different from his mountain ideas 
of what women should wear at any time, much less when 
about their household duties, as well as her polished 
manners, so amazed Uncle Harve that he could not for a 
time use his direct and positive style of speech. 

In talking about her to Mandy and Sis, one day at 
home, he said, I nuver seed anythin’ so slick and smooth 
like ’cept wil’ varmints an’ sich like, whar God made ’em 
all dressed up as He wanted ’em. 

Then when sheopenedthat thar head o’ hem th’ words 
jest rolled outen her mouth like water runnin’ over th’ 
rocks an’ made you feel all pleasant, like y’u does whun 
th’ birds air a-singin’ in th’ spring-time.” 

Leaving Mr. Gordon’s, and going out into a part of the 
city which was not paved, our party came upon a wagon, 
to which was hitched a pair of old mules that, like their 
owner, had seen their best days ; and had been part of the 
flotsam and jetsam thrown into the mountains at the close 
of the war. It was not unusual for the Kentucky mule to 
do good service when thirty-five years of age, and judg- 
ing from the appearance of these Kentucky buglers ” 
and the United States brand upon their shoulders, they 
were near that age. Uncle Harve had never told how he 
got them, and Uncle Sam was too busy with other things 
to rush into the mountains to ask about it. 


UNCLE HARVEYS VISIT 159 


In the wagon were Mandy and Ruth, while Bub was 
standing with Pete Finley’s rifle in his left hand, and 
leaning upon the wagon with his right, in the mind and 
attitude of one feeling his responsibility and ready to 
meet everything required of him without fear or favour. 

The gentlemen, on coming to the wagon, saluted Bub 
with heartiness and kindness, and offered their hands to 
Ruth and Mandy. Ruth, with her face all a-glow with 
blushes, did not accept either of the hands extended to 
her, nor did she offer her own. She turned her lustrous 
eyes down and her face a little to one side, and simply 
murmured, “ Good-mornin’; hope I see y’u well.” 

That black-haired gal’s my Mandy,” Uncle Harve 
said, and that was all the introduction given. 

Mr. Gordon proposed at once that the ladies should get 
out of the wagon and permit Mr. Keith and himself to 
show them the city. 

We will go by our house and see my wife, and she 
will have dinner for us when we come back from our 
trip through the town.” 

The girls were so shy, and felt so out of place at the 
strange situation, that no persuasion of Mr. Gordon could 
move them from the wagon. Bub said, I cum heyeh 
fer tuh see whut’s goin’ on an’ I’m bound tuh see it, an* 
ef y’u gals won’t go. I’m a-goin’ with these folks ur by me 
lone.” 

This statement was too much for Ruth, as she had 
taken care of Bub all his life and had promised her 


160 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


mother, when she consented to let him come on the trip, 
not tuh let him git outen her sight fer a single minute.” 
Softly she said to Mandy, “ I hev jest got tuh go. Y'u 
cum too, won’t y’u?” 

Uncle Harve overheard this, and put in his word before 
Mandy could reply. “ Yes, she’s goin’. Whut she cum 
fer? To set in th’ wagon night an’ day an’ not see nur 
hear nothin’ ? Now, gals, cum out o’ that wagon, I tells 
ye.” 

Slowly, and with great deliberation, the girls rose and 
walked to the front of the wagon, stepped down upon the 
tongue and then placing the right hand upon the mule 
and holding with the left to a bow of the wagon, which 
held the cover on the wagon in place, walked to the end 
of the double-tree, and jumped to the ground. 

They had declined help from the gentlemen, and both 
Uncle Harve and Bub were too well-acquainted with their 
ways to oflfer any. 

Mr. Gordon was brave, but when he saw the tall, lank 
form of Mandy and the full habit of Sis, he realised that, 
he was shorter than either of them, and took in the picture 
he would make when he walked through the town with 
them dressed in full mountain array. 

Mr. Gordon’s panic was, however, only for a moment, 
for when he thought of his wife and the interest she felt 
in the mountaineers, and her desire to help them, with 
proud port and cheerful face he led his charge down into 
the city. 


UNCLE HARVE’S VISIT 


161 


Bub and Sis clung to each other as if they were afraid 
to be separated by an inch. Bub had left his gun 
with great reluctance in the wagon, but the sense of 
protecting Sis and being protected by her was a stay to 
him. 

Mandy would not walk with the gentlemen, and so the 
three mountaineers walked together behind them, which 
prevented Mr. Keith from paying any special attention to 
Ruth, if that had been his wish; for though a judge of 
expression could see that he was of more interest to her 
than the city, or any or all the sights within it, she thought 
she was hiding her feelings. 

In nothing does the peculiar character of the mountain 
whites show itself with more distinctness than in the way 
they meet what is an astonishment to them. There were 
no ejaculations, no “ oh, my's,” or “ did you ever see the 
like ? ” and “ isn’t it wonderful ? ” Bub made some re- 
marks which we will not repeat here, and for which Sis 
pulled the sleeve of his coat to stop him ; but the girls, for 
the most part, maintained a discreet silence, and only by 
exchanging glances suggested what was going on in their 
thoughts. 

When the party reached Mr. Gordon’s house they were 
ushered into the simple parlour, more splendid to them 
than anything in their dreams — for they had never seen 
or heard of the Arabian Nights, or like books, and in 
satisfying a natural curiosity at the furniture and orna- 
ments on the mantel, tables, and walls, they showed that 


162 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


new sensations were being felt by them, both pleasant 
and wonderful. 

Good-morning, ladies,'' said Mrs. Gordon, with a 
kindness which won its way to their hearts, because it 
was untouched by any air of superiority to those for 
whom it was intended. Taking each of the girls by the 
hand she began to talk to them so sweetly that they forgot 
their embarrassment, and replying to her questions, fol- 
lowed her lead in the conversation with evident pleasure, 

'' What do you think of our city ? I hope you are 
pleased with it. It is only a short time since it was a 
corn-field, with woods around it," Mrs. Gordon explained. 

“ I nuver seed nothin' so strange, an’ I don’t know how 
to think on it," Mandy replied. “ Seems like thar’s more 
things in them air stores than 'll uver git sold, ’cause I 
don't see whar th' folks is tuh cum frum tuh buy 'em all. 
An' then th' houses air so big an’ tall, I don't see how 
folks air to git to th' top on 'em." 

“ Dear, won’t you please sing some of your best 
songs for the young ladies?" Mr. Gordon asked his 
wife. 

Mrs. Gordon sang the old song ‘‘ Home, Sweet Home." 
Lovely and penetrating, her voice brought out the senti- 
ment of the words, which, together with the music, 
aroused the sympathy in the mountain girls, and tears 
told how deeply they had' been affected. She then gave 
them a stately march, which so captivated Bub that he 
did not tire of telling the boys, when he returned home. 


UNCLE HARVE’S VISIT 163 

how “ she jest pulled th’ music outen that air chist ’til 
th’ creeps run down me back like all fury.” 

Keith tried to induce Ruth to talk to him, but as 
it finally came to him that her conduct was no evidence of 
how or what she thought of him, and that he was taking 
from her enjoyment by his efforts, he concluded to sub- 
side and let Mrs. Gordon do the talking. 

Ruth was much impressed by Mrs. Gordon and took 
in everything about her — her dress, the way she arranged 
her hair, the tones of her voice, and the kindness which 
showed its power in the subtle way in which one woman 
feels what another woman is. 

Ruth and Mandy had taken off their sunbonnets and 
laid them on their laps, as was the usual custom in their 
country, as soon as they were seated, and the gentle way 
in which Mrs. Gordon had removed them, and the tact 
she showed in giving them upholstered chairs of a kind 
not too different in style from those to which they had 
been accustomed, prepared the way for the meal, which 
was now ready. The girls felt full confidence in Mrs. 
Gordon’s desire to treat them as her equals, and so the 
first meal they were to partake of, with the furniture and 
appliances of civilised life, was not an ordeal, but a 
pleasure. 

The napkins were the first thing to puzzle them, for 
they had never seen one before, and rarely a towel, as most 
of their people dried their faces and hands by other 
means. Mrs. Gordon saw the trouble they were in, 


164 SONS OF VENGEANCE 
almost as soon as they were seated, and most ostenta- 
tiously made use of the one she had, which movement 
Mr. Gordon, strange to say, though a man, saw through 
and followed. Ruth, with great dignity and calmness, 
did as the others, and in a few moments gave Bub a 
hint, which he took, and the worst was over. 

Upon the table was a medium quantity of silver and 
some cut-glass. The astonishment of the mountain peo- 
ple at these things may be indicated by Bub’s account of 
the forks. He called them “ split spoons,” and declared 
that “ y’u couldn’t stick nothin’ with ^em, an’ he wondered 
whut in th’ Heavens an’ th’ yearth they wuz fer, any- 
how!” 

The meal being over, the gentlemen reinforced Mrs. 
Gordon in asking the girls to stay at the house while in 
the city, but were met with the statement that they ‘‘ hed 
tuh go an’ be ’ith thar kinfolks, th’ Pools, jest up th’ 
cove, as they hadn’t seen ’em fer a long time, an’ they’d 
be jest furious mad ef they passed ’em by.” 

Upon their return to the wagon. Uncle Harve was 
found in a great good humour. He had eaten his fill of 
the provisions brought with him, and had sold the dried 
apples and eggs and other things, including the sang he 
had for the market, at what he considered good prices, 
though he had been badly cheated by the dealers, who 
took advantage of his ignorance. 

He had come forty miles to sell these things, and he 
said he had never had a market close to him before. He 


UNCLE HARVE’S VISIT 165 

was in high “ didos ’’ because of his success in his first 
I effort. 

“ Wall, I reckon y’u gals hed better git in an’ let us 
be a-movin’, ur we won’t git tuh Tom’s afore sundown.” 

“ How long will you stay in our neighbourhood, 
Uncle Harve ? ” asked Mr. Keith. 

** Oh, a matter o’ two ur three days, ef these heyeh 
gals don’t git homesick.” 

“ Coming to town to-morrow ? ” 

;i Maybe so,” Uncle Harve answered. 

‘‘ I’ll walk out there in the evening, anyhow, and see 
you,” Keith said, as the wagon moved off. 


XVIII 


HELL’S HALF-ACRE 

U NCLE HARVE and Tom Pool, at whose house 
he was staying, walked out after dark that night, 
and knowledge of the whereabouts and doings of 
Clem Jones and Ham Simms was quickly in the posses- 
sion of the man whose heart was set on having it. 

When the feud was stopped, as was told in a former 
part of this story, these young men left t,he region of their 
recent crime, and came to Yellowboro, to get and keep 
out of sight, and to find some work, by which to make a 
living. They had made several trips to the place before, 
which accounted for much of their flippancy of speech 
and habits of gross profanity and drunkenness. 

Clem soon got a place as helper in a saloon, and as a 
messenger who could be relied upon to go into the 
woods and bring forth “ moonshine ” in any quantity 
wanted, and Ham, first as a driver, and then as a pimp at 
Heirs Half-Acre.’^ 

They thought themselves and their history unknown 
to those with whom they associated, and that they were 
safe from harm on account of their earlier career. This 
belief was correct, as far as the people were concerned 
who were served by them, but little that they did was al- 


HELL’S HALF-ACRE 


167 


lowed to pass unnoticed by one who reported it to those 
who wanted to keep them in their knowledge at every 
turn. 

Bright and early next morning a man was at ** Hell’s 
Half-Acre,” which is at the point where the States of 
Kentucky, Virginia, and Tennessee come together on the 
top of the mountain range. For some cause, whether a 
matter of boundary lines or not, none of the three States 
could or would assert jurisprudence over this small and 
rugged piece of land, and it was without law, or officer of 
the law. The king of misrule had it in his clutches, and 
no one who stopped in it for a moment, or passed along 
the road which led across the mountain at the Gap, and 
which ran through this strip of land, had any protection 
for property or life, so far as the law was concerned. 

There were places where moonshine ” was sold with- 
out let or hindrance, and if you were not willing or able 
to pay the price asked for it in the cabins, and would step 
aside into the bushes, a man with a jug would sell it at 
twenty cents a gallon, or would give you as much of the 
fiery white liquid as you would care to drink if you would 
play cards of throw dice with him. 

No one could tell the number of men who went into 
this place and were never heard of again. Murders were 
committed in the full glare of noon. No coroner ever 
went there to ask for the bodies of the slain men, and 
small hillocks over which the buzzards circled, showed 
where they were hastily hidden from sight. 


168 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Gambling of the lowest and most desperate kind was 
the business of those who went there for what they, in 
their infatuation, called pleasure; and drunken men 
might be seen lying on their faces on the side of the road 
in a stupefaction, which as often as not. resulted in death. 

The man who went there, that morning, carried with 
him a jug full of “ moonshine,” making pretence of wish- 
ing to sell it. He asked a price which he knew no one 
would pay, and so when he had stood around the place 
long enough to be sure that what he was seeking for was 
not to be found there^ he quickly and quietly sought an- 
other place. 

He had been in a number of these dens, and finding 
nothing, he was about giving up his search and making 
his retreat, as best he could, when, from behind a place 
which was made of fence rails, put up after the common 
plan of a hog pen, and covered with branches with the 
leaves on them, and hardly high enough for a man to stand 
in, he saw one of the men for whom he was seeking. 
Boldly approaching, he offered to sell the jug and its 
contents at such a small price that the man asked him to 
come into his lair that he might test the quality of the 
whiskey, and, if it pleased him, get the money with which 
to pay for it. 

The other man who was being sought was asleep on 
the floor on a pile of leaves mixed with a little straw. 
While the sale was being completed and the money paid, 
this man, disturbed by the talking, rose up and sat on 


HELL’S HALF-ACRE 169 

his ‘‘ swine’s ” bed, and joined in the talking. Who’s 
th’ man y’u’r got in heyeh ? Do y’u know him ? ” 

Naw,” was the reply. “ Do yu reckon I knows every- 
body in the world? I only bought this whiskey frum 
him, an’ it’s mighty good, I tell y’u. Git up an’ take a 
drink o’ it an’ see fer y’uself.” 

The sleeper, who was Clem Jones, got up, and, taking 
the jug in both hands, held it up and poured into his 
mouth a deep draught of the fiery stuff. Putting it down, 
he said, That’s mighty good moonshine — double-dis- 
tilled. I wants more on it fer my folks in th’ city. Whar 
kin I fin’ y’u, so’s I kin cum fer it when I wants it ? ” 

Oh, tell me whar to bring it an’ I’ll fetch it a’most 
any time,” the man replied. 

‘"Naw, I wants tuh cum arter it, an’ then I’ll see whar 
y’u makes it.” 

This was not wanted, for the man did not make the 
whiskey, but had bought it, paying twice what he got for 
it, the selling of it being simply a blind to find out where 
these men would be for the next twenty-four hours, and, 
if possible, what they would be doing. 

Ham Simms broke in, “ Don’t make no difference whar 
it’s made, so’s we git it when we wants it an’ at th’ price 
we wants if. Stranger, bring me twice as much as this 
jug holds day arter to-morrer, an’ I’ll take it from y’u. 
Now, Clem, sober up. You know we’ve got tuh go down 
th’ mount’in by three o’clock, an’ y’u got tuh be ready.” 

Our searcher having now learned what he had come 


170 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


for, as soon as he could, went away, promising to bring 
the whiskey when it was asked for. Leaving the hut, he 
was careful to go into the woods on the side of the road 
opposite the direction of his home, and to keep a tree 
between himself and the place from which he was now 
getting away. He did not know who was in '' Hell's 
Half-Acre," or whether his errand had been suspected or 
not. If it had, he might look for a bullet, or several of 
them, at any moment. 

Feeling himself at last out of danger, he changed his 
course, crossed the road, and took a straight line for those 
who were waiting to hear his report, which was just what 
they desired. 

About two o’clock. Ham Simms got ready to go down 
the mountain, and found to his great anger that Clem 
Jones was too drunk to go with him. Clem had liked the 
whiskey so well, that he could not help turning the jug 
up several times, and had got more than even his sea- 
soned body could contain and meanwhile walk around. 

Closing the door and leaving Clem on the inside, Ham, 
gun in hand, and pistols at his waist, started down the 
mountain. He had delayed so long trying to sober up 
Clem that he was in great haste. 

At a turn in the road, as you look when you are going 
west, you will see rocks piled upon rocks until you think 
they are among the grandest specimens of the class to 
which they belong in the world. These rocks are not so 
close together at every point as they seem from the 


HELL’S HALF-ACRE 


171 


road. There are numerous gaps and chasms there, into 
which a man can crawl, and from which he can see the 
road and anyone passing along it without himself 
being seen. 

A man had been in these rocks for an hour or more. 
He had carefully chosen his place where he could see 
anyone for some distance as he passed him. Men in 
wagons, on horseback, and on foot, had passed, but none 
of them were the men he was looking for. He was wait- 
ing and watching for Clem Jones and Ham Simms. He 
had expected them for a half-hour, and was impatient 
because they had not come. 

But now he saw a man on foot take the turn around 
the curve in the road, and knew him to be Ham Simms, 
though it disappointed him to see that he was alone. He 
placed his Winchester in position, resting it on a small 
ledge of the rock, and when Ham Simms was in the place 
for his purpose, he shouted : “ Ham Simms, y’u cowardly 
cur-dog, do y^u remember Bill an’ Sher Miller?” 

Ham stopped as still as if struck by a bolt of lightning, 
and, turning his face as if by instinct towards the place 
from which the familiar voice sounded, he instantly took 
his Winchester from his shoulder. He knew that his end 
had come when he heard that voice and those words, 
and felt that all hell was moving to meet him at his com- 
ing. 

There was a clear report of a rifle from the rocks, and, 
almost before it went out to startle the mountain echoes, 


172 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Ham Simms sprang into the air and fell to the ground, 
dead before he struck it, shot through the heart. 

The man in the rocks only looked for a moment, and 
before the smoke had cleared away, he was out of his 
hiding-place, and with care and ease had begun to descend 
the mountain. 


XIX 


THE MOUNTAIN GIRL MAKES A DETERMINATION 

I T was a picturesque walk, and stimulating alike to 
fancy and feeling, which Keith took that after- 
noon up the cove, between the shaggy sides of the 
mountains, to see Ruth Finley. 

He could not help contrasting nature, in her rugged 
simplicity and virgin purity, with the jarring and self- 
conscious works of man. Better what God has put the 
impress of His perfection upon, than what man holds 
out as the expression of his genius and the reflection of 
himself. 

It is good to use the materials laid in lines of beauty 
on the sides of these mountains, and within them, for the 
changing of the world, in much which a utilitarian age is 
in need of ; but the doing of it leaves the mountains bare, 
stripped of nature^s covering and seamed upon their sides 
with fearful gaps and chasms, and without nature’s 
curves of symmetry. They are sometimes made to ap- 
pear larger, yet no one will be so lost to the sense of 
proportion and grace as to claim that they are more 
lovely. 

^ ** Does this line of thinking,” he asked himself, ** ex- 

plain the deep and intense interest I feel in my mountain 

173 


174 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


girl — and would education and refinement t^e away 
her charm ? Education both takes away and puts within. 
It polishes and cuts the gem and turns it to the light of a 
sun of opportunity. 

Yes, I see an ideal woman in what Ruth might be- 
come when the future has done its work for her, and 
when full bloom tells the tale of what the bud was bom 
to become.” 

So Keith reflected as he walked on toward a sight 
— most to be desired by him and all true men — of one 
woman in all the world who mated his spirit and was 
partner with it forever. 

Ruth was looking for him, and feeling so strange from 
the knowledge of this fact, that — ^wild child of nature as 
she was — she was disposed to run away from him rather 
than to show how glad she was to see him. 

Her mother had left her nature, in all such phases, as 
uncultured as the bare peaks of the mountains towering 
above their cabin, and now, left to herself, without a 
human being to whom she could speak in confidence, she 
had to follow her feelings in rejecting what was evil and 
taking what was good in that eddy where currents cross 
in life's onward rush to test what is in us and sweep us 
on to our destiny. Fed upon the teachings of the “ Old 
Elder” from her earliest recollection, she believed im- 
plicitly that God was doing all things for the best. 

Thus feeling, she did not run away, as she was much 
tempted to do, as seated upon the little porch, shaded by 


MAKES A DETERMINATION 175 


an immense groud vine, she saw Keith turn into the 
path which led from the bars to the house. She did not 
rise to meet him, but stayed where she was and looked 
at him every step of his way. 

He stepped upon the puncheon floor of the porch, and 
began to knock at the door, but, seeing her, stopped, and, 
turning, offered his hand, saying, “ I am so glad to see 
you, Ruth.’' She did not move, but extended a hand, 
which he grasped for a moment, and then stood looking 
down upon her. 

She did not speak, but, thrilled by contact with the 
hand which had touched her’s, the tell-tale blood gave 
crimson to her cheeks, which warning she took and im- 
mediately turned away her eyes, in that inimitable way 
which pure, wild creatures have. Her soul had taken its 
vow, and nothing could ever shake its constancy. That 
handclasp, so meaningless in your conventional life, was 
to her a radical departure, and to give a man her hand 
to clasp in his meant nothing less than giving him her 
heart. 

Mr. Keith stood there and talked on and on without 
getting answer to anything he said. She listened, and, 
if he could have seen her eyes, and had not been prevented 
by man’s inherent stupidity in such matters, he would 
have seen the one answered to all and every remark 
he made, in the revelation that she was more interested 
in the man who was speaking than in all he was 
saying. 


176 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


He remarked, after a time, that he was coming up in 
the fall after frost, to go deer-hunting with Uncle Harve, 
and that he hoped to see her then. 

Then she spoke, and though without any apparent 
emotion, what she said reacted upon her with force, as 
do all great determinations when declared for the first 
time, I won't be thar." 

“ Where shall you be? You surprise me greatly." 

“ ril be at th' Cou't-House in th' school Preacher 
Gordon tol' me 'bout." 

“ Does your mother know of this, and has she con- 
sented to it ? " he asked eagerly. 

I hain't said nothin' 't all 'bout it afore, but IVe made 
my min' up an' I'm goin' shore." 

Keith had never heard anything like this from a 
seventeen-year-old girl, and, of course, was unable to 
take in its full meaning; but, like many another man, he 
was to be taught the force of some of the noblest things 
in mankind, from the way the mountaineers of Ken- 
tucky met and conquered difficulties. 

Ruth knew that she would have opposition from all her 
relations and friends every step of the path she had 
chosen, but since she had met and felt the quality of Mrs. 
Gordon, and was made to see her own deficiencies, and 
knew she loved the man with whom she was talking, her 
resolution was formed to be all she could become for his 
sake, and nothing could break it. 

Undismayed and without even a thought of failure. 


MAKES A DETERMINATION 177 

this untutored maid unflinchingly set her face towards 
the goal of her hope. 

*‘Why, Sis Finley, who ever seed th’ likes o’ y’u? 
Thar’s th’ gentleman standin’ an’ y’u hain’t ast him tuh 
take a seat an’ set down, I do believe,” said Mandy, as she 
came to the door. Cum out under the sweet gum-tree 
on th’ side o’ th’ house, an’ set on th’ bench. Y’u kin see 
somethin’ then ’sides a gourd vine, an’ git th’ air.” 

The three moved out and found a much more pleasant 
place, and, being joined by some of the people of the 
house, had begun a cheery talk, when to their surprise 
Uncle Harve, who had hastily entered the door at the 
back of tjie house without them seeing him — came out, 
and, though he seemed a little out of breath, joined in the 
conversation. 

Wall, gals,” he said, reckon we’ll all be goin’ tuh- 
morrer, so soon as it’s light nuff fer th’ mules tuh see th’ 
road. I’ve done seen all I wants tuh see o’ these parts fer 
a while.” 

Why, Uncle Harve,” the women all said at once, — in 
the way they have, — '^y’u promised tuh stay over Sun- 
day an’ take us tuh hear Mr. Gordon preach a sarment. 
We all wants tuh hear him ’cause we likes him, an’ we 
nuver heard a preacher from th’ North an’ nuver wuz in 
a town church.” 

“ I can’t leave y’u tuh cum by y’rselves an’ I tells y’u 
I’m boun’ tuh start in th’ mornin’, an’ so y’u mus’ jest 
git ready tuh go, an’ that’s all I’ got tuh say ’bout it.” 


178 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


But Uncle Harve, I wanted to show you the water- 
works, and the electric light plant, and the furnaces, and 
now you go right off without giving me the chance,’’ Mr. 
Keith remonstrated. 

“ Seen more an’ I wants tuh see a’ready ’round heyeh, 
an’ thar’s somethin’ tuh ’tend tuh at me cabin right now 
whut won’t bear waitin’. Mus’ be off, an’ when y’u cums 
up fer th’ deer-hunt we talked ’bout, y’u kin tell me some 
more ’bout it,” the old hunter replied. 

Seeing it was useless to urge a man of Uncle Harve’s 
calibre to change his mind, and also knowing that he 
would not have another opportunity to speak to Ruth in 
private, Keith was about to say good-bye and start 
to return to Yellowboro, when Tom Pool and Bub came 
into the group, — Bub in a very excited manner telling 
that he had seen a man who said that a little after three 
o’clock, on the big road leading through the gap, Ham 
Simms had been killed by someone hiding in the rocks, 
and that his body had been left in the road to wait for 
the coroner and some men were now out hunting for the 
man who had shot him. 

The news — if it was news to every member of the 
party — excited all of them. The women and Bub had no 
idea that Ham Simms was anywhere near the place, but 
believed him to be in Arkansas or Texas. Then they 
knew instinctively that his being killed, as was told, meant 
that if he had not got into new troubles, the Stokes- 
Mack feud was likely to be renewed at once. There was 


MAKES A DETERMINATION 179 


no more resistance to the plan of going home the next 
morning. If the news of what had happened reached 
the mountains where the Finleys lived, before they did, 
Uncle Harve would be in danger of being shot by the 
first man of the Mack side who saw him. 

Keith bade them all farewell except Uncle Harve, who 
walked a short distance down the road with him. 

Now, young man, don't bring no guns an’ thin’s when 
y’u cum up arter frost, fer I’ve got a big-bore gun, which ’s 
jest whut y’u wants, an’ ef y’u don’t take th’ buck ager, 
y’u’ll git somethin’ tuh show fer y’r cumin’ when y’u 
gits home.” 

“ Uncle Harve, what about Sis Finley going to Smith’s 
Court House to school ? Have you heard anything about 
it ? ” Mr. Keith asked. 

My sakes alive, whut y’u talkin’ ’bout ? Pete 
Finley’s widder nuver in this worl’ ’ll ’low that tuh be. 
She’s plumb set agin’ it. Sis’s nuver goin’ tuh git ’way 
frum her tuh go tuh school now. She’s bin tuh th’ log 
school-house an’ got all th’ edication she’s goin’ tuh need, 
an’ whut’s plenty fer any ’oman, an’ she hain’t goin’ tuh 
no tother place tuh git more, I tells y’u ! Her mother ’ll 
hold on tuh her ’til she fin’s a man an’ goes tuh live in a 
cabin on th’ spur o’ that mountain ’bove th’ spring.” 

But, Uncle HarVe, if she had the desire to be taught, 
why shouldn’t she have her wish and get all that this 
school can give her ? ” 

“ She knows more now an’ her mam does, an’ whut’s 


180 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


she goin' tuh do ’ith more in th’ mount’ins, while she^s 
milkin’ cyows an’ cardin’ an’ spinnin’ an’ cuttin out an’ 
makin’ clo’es, ’sides cookin’ an’ washin’ an’ ironin’ an’ 
raisin’ gyardin stuff an’ chickens an’ ducks an’ geese, an’ 
so many other thin’s I can’t think on ’em all ? We bin in 
hey eh sence our folks got hey eh when th’ Revolution War 
wuz over, an’ we bin gittin’ on arter our own way, an’ we 
air not a-goin’ tuh be led by th’ nose by no new notions 
frum new kind o’ preachers, sich as we nuver hearn on 
afore.” 

“ But you see how the world’s changing, don’t you ? 
Look at Mrs. Gordon. Isn’t she a fine lady, and wouldn’t 
you like to see Ruth educated as she is?” 

“ Mrs. Gordon’s mighty purty an’ I likes tuh look at 
her an’ hear her talk, but le’ me ast you, whut ’ould she 
do in th’ mount’ins with all I done bin tellin’ y’u a ’oman 
hez tuh do thar, an’ a pa’cel o’ cryin’ children tuh boot 
on her hands? We air jest rough folks an’ lives in 
rough places, an’ we hez rough ways an’ we hez tuh be 
on th’ Ian’ tuh bear an’ do whut’s ourn in our own place, 
an’ that’s all thar is tuh say ’bout it. Sis ’ll nuver go tuh 
no school, but that un whut ’s hard work on that ol’ farm 
o’ th’ Finleys, so good-bye,” and the men parted. 


XX 


A MEETING OF FRIENDS 

T om pool, at whose house Uncle Harve and 
his young people stayed when at Yellowboro, was 
on a visit to the Stokeses, that faction in the blood 
feud so recently stopped. Pool was related to most of 
the men on that side, so that his visit brought a number of 
them to Stokes’ place, among whom were the old Elder, 
Uncle Harve, and the Finleys. 

What interested the company most were the arrest and 
lynching of Clem Jones at Yellowboro, which had recently 
taken place, and of which but little was known in his old 
home. 

Pool was so full of the subject that he only needed a 
question now and then to give them all the information 
they desired. 

How’d they git him? ” Uncle Harve asked; “ he wuz 
sich a slippery cuss, I can’t see hov/ them officers, whut 
looked so much like a horse-block all dressed up in men’s 
clo’es, could get him.” 

“Oh! he hed so much liquor in him,” Pool replied, 
“ that he wuz a-lyin’ on th’ rocks’ sleepin’ off his drunk, 
when about twenty o’ them folks that lives ’roun’ th’ 

saloons, and sich like places, foun’ him.” 

181 


182 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

“ He roused up an’ showed so much fight, that ef he 
hedn’t staggered so as tuh fall over a loose rock, an’ then 
down thirty ur forty feet on th’ mount’in side, an’ knocked 
th’ senses out o’ him, so they hed him- tied afore he 
knew a thing of it, he’d ’a’ run th’ whole pack o’ ’em tuh 
cover. 

“ They wuz so afeered o’ him, that tyin’ his hands be- 
hin’ his back wuzn’t ’ntiff fer ’em, but two on ’em kep’ 
hoi’ all th’ way tuh th’ jail, like as ef they feared he’d 
creep out o’ his skin, an’ knock ’em all tuh death ’ith his 
bones.” 

Pears like y’u got mighty brave men down in that 
thar town. Wonder ef they hain’t afeered o’ that ol’ 
scare-crow I seen out in y’r co’nfiel’. You jest put a 
gun on his shoulder, Tom, an’ see ’em run pas’ y’ur 
house ’ith all th’ links o’ speed let out o’ ’em. Uncle 
Harve said. 

That hain’t th’ worst o’ it, fer they beat him ’till he 
wuz all bruised, an’ cussed him till th’ talk he hears in th’ 
place he’s gone tuh must seem very plain tuh him.” 

“ Whar wuz th’ jail keeper an’ th’ officers o’ th’ law 
when sich goin’s-on wuz bein’ done?” the Elder re- 
marked. 

“ That’s like lettin’ th’ buzzards pick an ol’ hog ’fore 
ye knocks it in th’ head.” 

‘‘Th’ jail-man tol’ a man that he wuz afeered tuh 
say a word, fer th’ officers in their blue coats wuz th’ 
fiercest an’ meanest an’ he hed tuh look as long as he 


A MEETING OF FRIENDS 183 


could an' then it got so bad he jest hed tuh turn his eyes 
away ur he’d ’a’ got sick at th’ sight. 

“ He says he kin see Clem now at nights in his dreams, 
sayin’ not a word an’ actin’ more like a man than any o’ 
them blasted cowards, whut beat him when he wuz 
unarmed an’ boun’.” 

Uncle Harve fired up at tjiis and said, '' Elder, them 
cowards hed on clothes like whut we wore in th’ army, 
ef they air like them whut I seed when I wuz down 
than” 

“ Then it ought tuh be stripped off ’em. Sich as they 
air oughtn’t tuh wear anythin’ like whut brave men 
wears,” the Elder replied. 

“ They beat him ’til they wuz afeered they’d kill him,” 
Pool went on, '' an’ then they throwed him down on a 
heap o’ dirty straw, not fit fur a dog bed, an’ tol’ him they 
wuz a-comin’ fer him that night tuh take him out an’ 
hang him. 

‘‘ The jail man said that Clem began tuh see somet’in’ 
that scared him so, he rolled from one side o’ th’ cell tuh 
th’ tother an’ wailed about some folks he called Sher an’ 
Bill Miller. 

He yelled that he seen ’em everywhar — when he 
shut his eyes as well as when they wuz open. 

“ He’d cry, ' I’m willin’ tuh die; that’s all ye kin ast, 
jest go ’way an’ leave me.’ 

‘‘Then he’d call fer someone named Ham, and beg 
him to take Sher an’ Bill away. 


184 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


An’ so he yelled an’ rolled an’ foamed at th’ mouth 
’til th’ crowd cum tuh hang him.” 

Them’s hell torments, ’bout whut I bin tellin’ ye fer 
forty year, bruthren,” the Elder said in a low voice, as 
if he felt near to eternity. 

“Yes, it air hell afore ye gits thar; which air God 
A’mighty jest a-lettin’ th’ nuver-dyin’ worm o’ remorse 
begin tuh gnaw afore ye gits tuh whar th’ fire sharpens 
his teeth. 

“ Sich as Tom is tellin’ us ought tuh make us meek like 
an’ ready tuh fall down afore th’ Lord an’ beg fer pard- 
ing fer our sins; fer, bruthrun, we jest hez a hell in our 
own selves whut kin be made tuh scorch an’ sting us 
whenuver it please God tuh hev it so.” 

“ Yes, Elder,” Uncle Harve added, ‘ I jest knows that’s 
so. I hev felt on it meself, an’ thar’s bin times when I 
wuz fearder o’ meself an’ me own feelin’s an’ whut I 
were a-thinkin’ on ’an all th’ Macks in this neck o’ 
woods. 

“ A man mus’n’t be afeered tuh be by hisself nur tuh 
lis’en tuh whut’s inside o’ him ef he air tuh pass fer a 
brave man. 

“ How does y’u look at it, Stokes? ” 

“ I’m jest like y’u, Uncle Harve, I fin’ th’ worst o’ 
these heyeh fights hain’t when yer in th’ lorrel a-hidin’, 
nur when yer blood’s up an’ y’u’re a-seein’ th’ Macks a- 
runnin’ ur a-fallin’, but arter hit’s over an’ yer a-thinkin’ 
on it all. 


A MEETING OF FRIENDS 185 


** I can't see Mack's house yander, 'ithout thinkin' on 
him when I las' seen him a-drawin' up his legs an' 
quiverin' when he lay a-dyin' over thar in th' woods lot, 
an' feelin' a pity like fer his wife an' child’en an' a-wishin' 
they'd 'low me divide me craps 'ith 'em." 

Jim, don't y'u min' whut I bin a-preachin' tuh y’u all 
th' time y'u bin a-comin' tuh meetin’ that God jest 
fixes thin's an' we can’t help oursel's? God makes us 
do 'em, an' we only hev tuh gin Him th’ glory fer our 
doin' of 'em. Ye can't git 'roun' God, Jim, an' y'u 
mus'n't mourn 'bout His doin's." 

** I min's. Elder, I min's, but ef that's so why'n't God 
then do all th’ sufferin' 'bout it all, 'ithout makin' us do 
whut He says, an' then makin' us suffer fer doin' o' His 
will. I hain't no Methody an' I don't like thar howlin' 
an' rollin' in th' straw one single leetle bit, but I can't 
make out how I hain't 'sponsible fer whut I does ef I air 
tuh suffer fer th' doin' on it. 

‘‘ Whut fer did Clem Jones see th' faces o' them two 
boys Pool hez bin a-tellin' us 'bout ef God made him 
kill 'em?" 

Now, Jim, y'u jest min' whut 'lection is as I hev tol' 
y'u 'bout in mos' every sarment y'u hears me preach. 
Some air 'lected tuh doin' evil an' some air 'lected tuh 
doin' good." 

“That's why we air named * Two Seed Baptisms' Th* 
seed o' Adam tuh do evil an' th' seed o' Christ tuh do 
good, an* y'u air o' Christ as is all our Baptis' folks. 


186 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Clem Jones air o’ Adam like all th’ Macks an’ th’ 
Methodys an’ sich.” 

Well, Elder, y’u say hit’s so an’ I air try in’ tuh think 
so too, but thar’s somethin’ on my heart whut all yer 
sayin’s don’t take out, an’ I’m like Uncle Harve, mighty 
’nough scared at whut air inside o’ me an’ talkin’ tuh 
me.” 

“ Now, Elder, save this fer y’r nex’ sarment an’ let 
Tom tell us more ’bout whut happened tuh Clem,” Uncle 
Harve said. 

“ Well,” continued Pool, thar wuz a mount’in man 
cumin’ home that night from a dance up Red Crick an’ 
when he beared th’ whistle blow, ’bout twelve o’clock, 
an’ seen all th’ ’lectric lights go out an’ beared th’ marchin’ 
o’ men towards th’ jail, he ran an’ hid under the bridge 
tuh save hisself an’ tuh listen tuh whut wuz a-goin’ 
on. 

He says that when he looked out he saw fifty men or 
more a-marchin’ Hth grins on thar shoulders, an’ many 
on ’em he knew belonged tuh th’ military company of th’ 
town. They wuz holdin’ Clem Jones up by th’ arms — fer 
he couldn’t walk — an’ jest as they got him tuh th’ bridge 
he gin a scream, that wuzn’t like any this man hed ever 
beared, an’ that wakened many o’ th’ folks in th’ town, 
an’ wuz dead in a minit. 

** After he wuz dead they put a rope ’roun’ his neck, an’ 
fastenin’ one end tuh th’ bridge they pushed him off, an’ 
while he wuz bangin’ thar they beat him ’ith th’ butts o’ 


A MEETING OF FRIENDS 187 


thar guns, an’ some of ’em throwed stones down on his 
body when it wuz swingin’ in th’ air. 

‘‘ Then they went off a-laughin’ an’ a-talkin’ jest as ef 
they hed bin at a quiltin’ or a dance.” 

*'How many on ’em wuz took up an’ put in th’ jail whar 
Clem wuz, an’ wuz hanged as they ought tuh bin. I’d like 
tuh know?” Uncle Harve asked in a harsh and angry 
tone of voice. 

‘‘ Oh, none of ’em. Mos’ of th’ people in th’ town 
joked ’bout it, an’ called it a * necktie-party.’ The mayor 
said he wuz mighty glad it hed bin done, an’ hoped 
all sich ’ould be sarved th’ same way, but when he beared 
tell that th’ mount’in people wuz cumin’ tuh town tuh see 
’bout sich doin’s he wanted tuh see his fo’ks in Knoxville, 
an’ he went on th’ fust train tuh see ’em.” 

The Elder was much excited by the account of this 
terrible deed, and had either forgotten about the question 
of human responsibility or felt that God required him to 
get raging mad then and there ; and rising up in his wrath 
trumpeted in his preaching tones : 

“ Them people hain’t no Kentuckians, not a mother’s 
son on ’em — ou ah! Ef they is they wuz born in th’ 
pennyr’yal country ur somewhar else, an’ not in these 
mount’ins — ou ah! 

“ They jest needs tuh hev th’ furious wrath o’ God tuh 
eat ’em an’ eat an’ nuver eat up, ah! fer all ’ternity — 
ou ah! 

“ Y’u, Harvey Turner, an’ y’u, Jim Stokes, an’ all o’ 


188 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


y’u, rise an' let's go tuh that thar place whut Tom Pool’s 
bin a-tellin' us 'bout; an' smite 'em hip an’ thigh from 
th' face o' th' yearth — ou ah ! 

'' I hez an' in'ard call tuh do it, an’ ef whut Jim Stokes 
hez bin talkin 'bout should happen tuh be true, I air askin' 
tuh hev some 'sponsibility in th' doin’ o’ it. Ou ! ah ! " 

** Hain’t that so, brother Harve? ” 

“ Stop, Elder, y'u're not at th’ meetin’ house, an’ 
hain't got no call tuh preach us a sarment now. Ef ol' 
Kentuck air so disgraced as Tom hez bin tellin’ us, an’ 
them whut is a-settin’ down tuh Frankford can’t take th’ 
disgrace oflf, I jest wants tuh know whut that ol' soldier, 
whut led his brigade 'longside o' ourn at th' battle o' 
Stone River an' who's a-settin' in the Pres’dent’s cheer, 
hez tuh say 'bout sich goin’s-on in these United States." 

“ I’ll tell y’u," Pool remarked. 

‘‘The Sunday arter th' lynchin’ I went tuh hear Mr. 
Gordon preach at th' Northern meetin’-house, as I 
promised him I would when he wuz tuh see y'u at my 
house. 

“ He jest up an' said in his sarment a heap 'bout that 
lynchin'. 

“ He said that every man in a free country hed th' right 
o' th' protection o’ th' law till that law hed tried him fair, 
an' a jury o’ his countrymen had brought a verdic'. 

“He tol' em he knew nothin' 'bout whut Jones hed 
done 'fore he cum tuh th', town, but he hed bin hung fer 
no crime but bein’ in company 'ith a man what hed 


A MEETING OF FRIENDS 189 

wounded a deputy in th’ leg, an’ who wuz out on bail an* 
goin’ whar he wanted to. 

** He hed written tuh President Harrison ’bout it all an’ 
he read a letter from him sayin’ he agreed ’ith Mr. Gordon 
that a great outrage hed bin done, but that he — th’ 
President — couldn’t do nothin’ tuh put down sich out- 
rages, ’less th’ Governor o’ Kentucky would call on him 
tuh do it. 

‘‘ That Gordon preacher jest raved ’bout it, an’ th’ peo- 
ple jest looked pale an’ said nothin’, that I could hear, 
when they wuz goin’ out. 

“ I jest walked up to him an’ tol’ him that though Qem 
Jones was th’ worse cuss in th’ mount’ins an’ desarved 
tuh die a good many times fer whut he’d done ’fore he 
cum heyeh, that I wuz a loyal citizen of these United 
States, an’ when he wanted anyone tuh help put down 
sich doin’s he could jest reckon on me. 

** He took my han’ an’ squeezed it an’ said he knew thar 
wuzn’t a mount’in man whut wouldn’t rally an’ go out 
tuh his death tuh stop such outrages. 

I felt proud tuh hear him say that, an’ ye all knows 
he said th’ truth.” 

Yes, it air th’ truth, but whut y’u think o’ a country 
whar sich a man as Gene’al Benny Harrison, when Presi- 
dent o’ th’ whole people an’ Gene’al o’ th’ whole army, 
kin do nothin’ tuh protect ’em from lynchin’?” asked 
Uncle Harve. 

“ I jest thinks ef it air so it ought tuh stop bein’ so,” 


190 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

cried the old Elder. “ Every inch o’ th’ groun’ o’ this 
country ought tuh be safe fer all on us till we air jailed 
ur hung by th’ law. That’s whut we fit fer an’ whut I 
air standin’ fer now, even ef it pleased God tuh hev Clem 
Jones, who desarved tuh die a thousan’ deaths, hang by 
th’ neck.” 


XXI 


I ‘'SIS'* GOES TO SCHOOL 

I that Keith man ast me ef y’u wuz a-goin’ to th’ 

Cou’t House tuh school arter y’u gits home,” 
Uncle Harve observed, as they turned up the river 
i on their way home. “ I jest up an’ tol’ him that y’u done 
got all th’ edication whut y’u wuz a-goin’ tuh git, an’ 
that all sich talk wuz nothin’ but losin’ breath a-blowin’ 
on dead coals.” 

'' I’m a-goin’, anyhow. Uncle Harve,” Sis replied, 
an’ all y’u uns can’t keep me from a-goin’. I’m boun’ 
tuh larn whut makes men like them preachers an’ Mr. 
Keith an’ that air ’oman, th’ preacher’s wife, different 
from whut I air an’ whut y’u air.” 

Ruth did not grow red in the face and speak in a loud 
and imperious tone of voice, nor repeat her words. 

She grew pale, and her eyes seemed to emit a light 
which shot out into the face of Uncle Harve, as her lips 
came together with firm lines. 

Why, gal, y’u look jest like Pete, y’r dad, this minit 
in them ’ar eyes, an’ I begins tuh think y’u’ll do jest like 
him when he sot his head on a thin’. He jest up an’ done 
it, an’ nothin’ could stop him when he got a-goin’. Now, 

191 


192 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


gal, yV mam ’ll fight y’u ’til she’s put under gr'oun’ 
an’ y’u oughtn’t tuh pester th’ life outen her by any sich 
jim-cracks as y’u’s talkin’ ’bout. Whut y’u goin’ tuh 
do ’ith all ’th edication y’u kin git at th’ Cou’t House arter 
y’us got it, I’d like tuh know ? Y’u kin do all whut any 
’oman need tuh do in these parts now, an’ can’t do nothin’ 
any better arter all th’ ' book lamin’ ’ that air school 
hez got in y’r noggin. Then th’ cost on it an’ th’ three 
year y’u air tuh be thar ought tuh make y’u let th’ whole 
thing go by.” 

Sis heard all this, and seemed as if she was not going 
to say a word in reply. The old man looked into her face, 
hoping to see there such a change as would give him 
assurance that his words had convinced her of her error, 
and that she would give the matter up and say no more 
about it. He saw no change, but his look brought an 
answer which made him hopeless. 

Y’u needn’t say ’nother word tuh me. Uncle Harve; 
as y’u said. I’m like my dad, an’ I’m settled that, cum 
whut will, an’ whuther it’s a long time ’fore I start ur 
not. I’m goin’ tuh th’ Cou’t House tuh that air school. 
Y’u an’ th’ ol’ Elder air my guardeens, an’ I says that my 
part o’ th’ Ian’ an’ whut dad hed, I wants tuh spen’ in 
goin’, an’ I will ef I hez tuh wait ’til I’m twenty-one.” 

Uncle Harve felt sure that this was the end of his 
efforts to reason with the girl, and the problem before 
him was now whether it was worth while to put diffi- 
culties in her way or not. He concluded to go and see 


“SIS” GOES TO SCHOOL 193 


the Elder about it before broaching the subject to Mrs. 
Finley, of whose opposition he was certain. 

Bub listened to all this and had come to the conclusion 
that Ruth, whom he had followed with perfect docility all 
his life, was, like all women-folks, only fit to do what men 
told them, and that she ought to be made to get into her 
place and stay there. He did not wait long after he got 
home to tell his mother about Sis puttin’ on airs an’ 
talkin’ ’bout goin’ tuh school at th’ Cou’t House.” 

“ She up an’ tol’ Uncle Harve that he’d better shet up 
his head an’ let her ’lone fer she was a-goin’ ef it took 
her twenty year t.uh do it. She thinks she can be like th’ 
preacher’s wife, an’ w’ar queer thin’s on her head an’ 
skins on her ban’s an’ hev white thin’s on th’ table when 
y’r goes tuh eat, an’ all sich, which makes nothin’ but 
trouble, an’ done gin y’u nothin’ tuh fill y’r stomach.” 

“ Bub, y’u hush y’r mouth an’ stop talkin’ ’bout Sis, 
she’ll do like I did an’ all th’ women in this country, 
when th’ time cums, — jest go tuh some cabin ’ith her man 
an’ get through life as it cums tuh her an’ hern. I’ll 
talk tuh her when she gits ready hersel’ tuh talk.” 

Sis became less animated and cheerful in spirit, al- 
though she still went about her work with energy and 
perseverance. Her mother saw this and felt that it 
meant much for her and her gal,” whom she saw to be 
every day more and more like her father. 

At last, one morning at the spring. Sis said, “ Mam, I 
wants tuh ast y’u somethin’ ’bout whut I wants to do. 


194 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Y’u heard that preacher say he wanted me tuh cum to 
the Court House tuh school, an’ somebody in New York 
hed sent him money tuh pay fer me ef I’d go. I wants 
tuh go, but I wants Elder an’ Uncle Harve tuh take 
whut’s mine, what dad lef’ me, an’ pay fer me. I kin 
teach school after I’m done at, the Court House, an’ won’t 
want th’ Ian’ an’ money.” 

'' Whar y’u goin’ tuh live, y’u ninny, ef y’u hain’t got 
no Ian’ tuh live on when y’u cums back home. Y’u jest 
hain’t goin’ one step arter sich nonsense. Over thar on 
th’ spur o’ thet mount’n’s y’r dad laid ouf wuz th’ place 
fer y’r cabin, an’ thar’s whar it ’ll be, an’ y’u’ll be jest 
like I bin an’ all on us women-folks.” 

Mam, I hain’t aimin’ tuh make y’u mad, but Fm 
govn\ 

“ I’ll stay heyeh ’til I’m free, an’ whut’s mine’s mine 
tuh use, an’ then I’m a-goin’, and ef y’u treat me like y’u 
talk on. I’ll nuver cum back, even ef I dies from heart- 
break. Let’s go an’ see th’ Elder an’ ast him ’bout it.” 

Mrs. Finley agreed to the proposal, sure that the 
opinion of the Elder would be her own, and also that 
he would have more influence with Sis than anyone else. 

So a few days later Mrs. Finley mounted her horse 
and, taking Ruth up behind her, rode over to the Elder’s 
farm. When they had dismounted and made their desire 
known, the old cow’s horn, which had done duty for 
more than a hundred years in the family, was blown by 
the Elder’s daughter, and the Elder, hearing his pe- 


“SIS” GOES TO SCHOOL 195 

culiar call, came in from the field where he was at 
work. 

“ Howdy, sister Finley an' Sis. Fm mighty glad tuh 
see y'u. Hope y'u air all well at y'r house,” was his 
warm-hearted salutation, as he seated himself. 

When told of what Sis desired to do, he was taken al- 
together by surprise. It had never occurred to him 
that any girl in his flock would ever dream of going 
away from home to school. He was entirely honest in 
his conviction that the schools, in little log-cabins, where 
Webster’s blue-backed spelling-book was the main text- 
book, gave all the opportunities for education that any 
boy or girl in the mountains could wish for or require. 

He himself did not feel any want of knowledge in the 
undertaking or carrying out of what came to him as a 
business man, school trustee, or preacher. Deferred to 
by the people in all his opinions and teachings, he was 
ready to measure himself with any man on the earth and 
meet him in any tussle of strength, be it intellectual, 
physical, or spiritual. 

In going to his New Testament, he was certain that 
he was taught of the Spirit, and he spake with full confi- 
dence in the importance and truth of all he said. 

His assurance received a jar that his ward, who was a 
favourite among the ‘‘ ewe lambs of his fold,” had con- 
cluded that, as teacher, friend, or father in spirit, he was 
not enough to satisfy her. 

He had picked out Sis for the wife of his nephew, 


196 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


whom he expected to become a preacher, and keep the 
true seed of the everlasting covenant in Salem Church. 
The nephew was of like mind with his uncle in this 
matter, and was head over heels ” in love with the girl. 
He had been disappointed in not receiving a particle of 
encouragement from her, and had but a short time before 
confided his trouble to his uncle, with the result of being 
assured of the sympathy and co-operation he needed, 
and of having his hopes of final success much raised. 

The old Elder thought of his nephew in a moment, 
and of his chagrin at Sis so much as thinking of such a 
thing. Then his plan was to have Sis and his nephew 
married in a year or two. Nevertheless, with all the 
troublesome questions coming out of what he was now to 
face, with his natural prejudices aroused and his self- 
conceit pricked in a tender and fatal spot, he was a true 
and brave man, and he did not deliver his mind with 
his wonted dogmatic positiveness. 

If he did not know his danger, he felt it, and if he did 
not fear the face of man, he was tender in every throb 
of his heart for Pete Finley’s gal, and would not wan- 
tonly hurt her. 

“ Why, Sis, hain’t leamin’ whut’s good ’nough fer yer 
dad an’ mam an’ fer me, good ’nough fer y’u Mighty 
leetle’ll do ef y’u puts it tuh good use, an’ a heap’s no use 
ef y’u hain’t got nothin’ tuh do with it an’ no place tuh 
work it in. Tuh gin away Ian’ an’ all th’ money y’u got 
tuh set up housekeepin’ ’ith when y’u gits married, fer 


“SIS” GOES TO SCHOOL 197 

nothin’ y’u can eat nur w’ar an’ put tuh any kin’ o’ use 
heyeh, is bad, very bad. Y’u mus’ do as y’r mam an’ 
Uncle Harve an’ y’r father in the spirit says in this, Sis: 
jest git married an ’live on y’r Ian’ like all on us folks 
heyeh.” 

Sis had hoped against hope in coming to see this old 
man, in whom she believed with all the force of her in- 
tense nature. Now, when she found that she was to 
have his opposition, her heart was shaken for the first 
time, and for a moment she hesitated. Then, as the 
waves hurled back in fury from the rocks come in with 
increasing volume, until they overwhelm their foes, the 
rocks, so her resolution came to her after the fluctuation, 
stronger and firmer than ever. 

“ Elder, I jest hez tuh go. Thar’s somethin’ in me 
whut’s all th’ time a-callin’ me, an’ I got tuh listen tuh 
that call, an’ I hez tuh go — that’s plumb shore. Y’u says 
tuh us when y’u preaches, a’most every sarment, that 
th’ spirit’s teachin’ us an’ by callin’ us it’s meant by God 
we sh’ll do whut He tells us tuh. Y’u says y’u’re tol’ 
whut tuh tell us, an’ we believes y’u an’ trys tuh do like 
y’u says. I air tol’ by whut’s in me tuh go, an’ go I hez 
tuh, even ef it’s me dyin’ fer it.” 

Her statement and the manner of it, completely con- 
founded the Elder. To be taken at his word, and to have 
his teachings thrown back in his face and made to con- 
tradict his advice and destroy his plans, was never so 
done before. Resistance had a tendency to anger him, 


198 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


as with most strong persons, and turning his guns of 
argument and teaching upon him after that manner, con- 
founded him for a time. He did not speak nor act 
violently, as he felt like doing, however, but took the 
opposite course, and said: 

Let’s think a while ’bout what’s bes’. I don’t see no 
good tuh cum o’ y’u stayin’ on fer years jest waitin’ fer 
this thin’, an’ then when y’u air an ol’ maid, a-goin’ off 
tuh school an’ spendin’ all y’r got an’ goin’ ^roun’ all y’r 
life a teachin’ an’ no family an’ sich. Y’u jest goes home, 
an’ I’ll cum over an’ see y’u soon, an’ talk some more 
’bout it all.” 

Thus dismissed, the two women took their departure. 
Ruth was not a quarrelsome woman, and, when not silent, 
spoke of other things on the way home. 

In some way, which she could no more understand than 
we can, Mrs. Finley felt that Ruth had gained the Elder 
and that he would at last consent to her wishes. Not 
that he would give up his opinions of what was of value 
in this world, or cease to feel the sufficiency of what 
he possessed for all the purposes and pursuits of his life, 
but that he would yield to the force of his own teachings, 
aided as they were by his natural wish to let Ruth have 
her own way. 

Mrs. Finley’s feelings were confirmed when the old 
man, a few days later, came with Uncle Harve and after 
considerable discussion delivered his judgment thus. 
** Bein’ as Sis air so sot in her ways ’bout goin’ tuh th’ 


“SIS” GOES TO SCHOOL 199 


Cou't House an’ feels such an in’ard call tuh go, Uncle 
Harve an’ me hev made up our min’s tuh let her go.” 

Mrs. Finley put her apron over her head and, without 
speaking a word, walked out of the house. 

Ruth was for some time not disposed to say anything, 
as the mingling of joy and surprise, and the coming of a, 
sense of responsibility which was new to her, held her 
facing the future, while feelings of awe, if not of dread, 
filled her heart. 

Uncle Harve was the first to speak: “ Ef I’m a-livin’ 
when y’u comes back ’thout any money ur Ian’, Sis, y’u’ll 
see that Pete Finley’s gal kin hev her share o’ all I got in 
my cabin, an’ I’ll be as good tuh y’u in all y’r book 
lamin’ as I am right this heyer minit.” The voice of the 
old man quavered. The Elder had hopes that a week or 
two would be all that Ruth would want of the school, as 
he knew how home-sickness worked upon the mountain 
people, and so he said : 

'' I’ll cum tuh th’ Cou’t House tuh see y’u. Sis, in a 
week ur two arter y’u gits thar, an’ fin’ out how y’u likes 
it, an’ y’u kin cum ’long back ’ith me ef y’u wants to.” 

It seemed to the honest old soul that the girl was cast- 
ing off all her best and most holy possessions and going 
into an unknown wilderness of embarrassment and temp- 
tation. Nothing but conviction that the inward voice of 
God should be heeded and followed, brought him to speak 
the words and use the influence which opened to this 
seeker for light the gate to the sun of her hopes, 


XXII 


IN THE THROES OF CIVILISATION 

T he triumph over opposition and the realisation 
of a purpose did not give Ruth the gratification 
she expected. Dread of consequences and dis- 
trust of herself were, where she had hoped for the 
stimulus of those qualities of mind, now free t.o exercise 
themselves in what, through development, gave exhilara- 
tion to the ambitious soul. 

She had never been away from home, except when on 
her visit to Yellowboro, and when she saw Bub put up the 
bars and then mount his horse to go with her to the Court 
House, and looked through misty eyes at the dilapidated 
old cabin on the mountain side where she was born, and 
noted that no one was in sight, which she knew was be- 
cause they could not bear to see her go, she had the im- 
pulse to turn back and welcome ignorance, toil, and 
poverty, as blessings compared with the pain at parting 
from her well-loved home ones. 

Every sight and sound was not only a voice recalling 
days which were to come no more, and with what was 
told by them, giving a pathos which none but true hearts 
can feel, and those who have great deeps in them can 
measure. But to the freshly opened heart of the pure 

800 


THROES OF CIVILISATION 201 


and loving maiden, there came the vision of a manly 
form and a face brave and strong; and for love of tjiat 
man, whose image was now before her, she girded her 
strength to make herself worthy of him. 

She did not add to her troubles by seeking to know 
when or how or where this would take place, she 
only felt that it would be some day, and she was de- 
termined to be ready when the time came. 

Within a mile of home she passed the log cabin where 
she had been taught from the ‘‘ blue-backed ” spelling- 
book, and thought that there were no better schools than 
that one; and, even now, as she could hear the hum of 
the children’s voices as they ‘‘ studied out,” and as she 
passed the door could see them seated on the logs fast- 
ened to the walls of the room, she had a startled sense 
of what she was doing, and wondered if it meant leav- 
ing the customs and opinions and what was life to her 
people. 

Sis, why hain’t y’u a-sayin’ somethin’ ? ” Bub re- 
marked, with a touch of irritation in his tones. “ Y’u jest 
bin mopin’ all th’ mornin’. I wants somebody tuh talk 
tuh.” 

'' I don’t feel as ef I wants tuh talk. Bub ; I’m a-think- 
in’.” 

“ Wall, y’u’re doin’ whut y’u air sot on, an’ now y’u 
look like y’u wish y’u hedn’t gone an’ done it. ’Tain’t 
nigh as fer back home as tuh th’ Cou’t House, an’ th’ 
way hain’t blocked up yit, I reckon.” 


202 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

“ Bub, don't talk so, honey. Sis am a-goin’ on tuh th’ 
en' ef her heart air sore." 

Bub tried to laugh, but found he could not do it, and 
so he remarked in as cheerful tone as his voice could 
assume : “ This air Black Mountain, Sis, we air goin’ 

up, an' when we gits over it, we’ll be tuh th’ crick whut 
we’ll foller cl’ar up tuh th’ Cou’t House.” 

Sis would not talk to him, and he fell to wondering at 
many things, and at Sis in particular, until he saw the 
Court House dome in the distance, and cried out, “ Thar, 
Sis, am th’ Cou’t House, whar we air goin’.’’ 

Ruth looked, but what she saw was like a dream. 
She tried to pick out the school-house, but could not find 
anything to fit her expectations. 

When they had forded the creek, which was wide and 
rocky, and had entered the town, Bub asked someone the 
way to the Mission school-house. 

** Jest go ’roun’ that ’ar comer tuh th’ right han’, an’ 
then ’round another corner tuh th’ lef’ han’, an’ when y’u 
cum tuh a great big white house, ’ith green window 
blin’s, y’u’ll be thar,’’ said the man Bub asked. 

The shy mountain girl and boy dismounted, and taking 
the old and much worn carpet-bag, which was made so 
as to hang upon the horn of the side-saddle, upon which 
Sis rode, and which contained all the effects she had 
brought with her, they knocked at the door. 

A sweet-faced woman admitted the half-frightened 
pair and, introducing herself as Miss Camp, explained 


THROES OF CIVILISATION 203 


that she was the principal, and, before they knew it, had 
I made them forget their strangeness. Rude as their life 
I had been they knew true hospitality, and, recognising it 
here, their fears lessened. 

Bub, now that he had found the school, was anxious 
to start back for home without as much as being seated. 
1 He had to lead the horse Sis had ridden, and he wanted 
I to be at his place before dark. But, ready as he was to 

I meet without fear man or beast with his father’s rifle in 
hand, he did not want to leave Sis. There was a choking 
in his throat whenever he thought of it. 

Miss Camp saw through him, and was not going to let 
him leave until she had given him something to think of 
and to talk to his mother about. 

Miss Finley, let me show you to your room, and we 
will ask your brother to bring the bag and come with us.” 

Sis was startled at the new title. She had never been 
so called, as Mr. Keith and others had gone no further 
than to address her* as '' Miss Ruth.” Bub had no wish 
to accompany them, but the lady had such a gentle com- 
pelling way, that he went with them obediently, if not 
joyfully. 

They were shown into a room, fifteen feet square, upon 
the floor of which was a clean rag-carpet. There was a 
neat suit of oak furniture of three pieces, and the bed 
was covered with a clean white counterpane. Upon the 
washstand were bowl and pitcher, and other necessaries 
for the morning ablutions. 


204 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Bub was so put out by what he saw, that he stood hold- 
ing the bag, and gazing around without a word. There 
he took his second lesson in civilisation, though he knew 
it not — a lesson which, with an accumulating force, was 
to lead to a work of changing men and customs, and to 
gather to it a leadership which was, with its following, to 
redeem his section from many of the worst features of 
the life there. 

I wish you, Mr. Finley, to be able to tell your mother 
how Miss Finley is situated,’’ Miss Camp said, ** and 
what a pretty room she has. The young lady who is to 
be her room-mate has not arrived, but we expect her in a 
few days.” 

Ruth was in a new world, and was in no haste as yet 
to get its metes and bounds. Strong natures are not 
quick to speak of what astonishes them, and though she 
wondered how she was to get on among so many grand 
things, she waited to get the true idea of them to apply 
and enjoy them. 

Bub would only wait a few moments, and Miss Camp 
was too politic to try to detain him longer, or to go to the 
front gate and see the brother and sister part. They did 
not, shake hands, nor kiss, as is the custom among most 
people. When Bub had mounted his horse and Ruth had 
unhitched the other one and handed him the bridle-rein, 
she simply said, ” Good-bye, honey ! ” 

He tried to speak, but his voice would not respond to 
his will, and he could not utter a sound. It is deep feeling. 


THROES OF CIVILISATION 205 

i stronger than death, which makes the ordinary clatter of 
of so-called polished persons an impertinent exhibition of 
r shallowness. 

Bub never looked back, and left the horses to take 
;| their own way towards home, for he could not see to 
j guide them. 

When Ruth saw the old horses — each one having been 
, given a little farewell pat upon the nose in parting — go 
' with Bub out of sight around the corner, she turned back, 

; feeling that the last cord had been broken which bound 
! her to her former life. She was henceforth to live in what 
[ was yet to be discovered, and, with emotions of which 
she knew neither the nature nor the strength, went on to 
meet and triumph in many a field of effort and discipline 
into which she was now to enter. 

“ You had better go to your room until I call you. Miss 
Finley,'^ the kindly Miss Camp said to her, when she re- 
turned to the house. 

Ruth was grateful for this permission to be away from 
the gaze of strangers, for she was where many tides meet, 
and where souls who are to endure and triumph are tossed 
and whirled in their embrace. 

The desks and other appliances of the school-room 
were a hindrance for a time, while the food was not to 
her liking. She saw so much in her clothing unlike that 
which the teachers and older pupils wore, that she was 
uncomfortable when she either looked at or thought of 
herself. 


206 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


The home-sick feeling, which all true natures feel when 
forced to dwell for a time away from loved ones and 
familiar objects, and which no philosopher has been able 
to analyse or physician successfully to cure, had her in 
its relentless hold, and refused to yield to her prayers and 
tears. 

At times she was tempted to run back on foot over the 
rough way, and cast herself into her mother’s arms and 
give up the battle for her heart’s ideal; but when there 
seemed nothing left to support her there came to her what 
she most needed in the teachings of the old Elder, that 
God would lead His own, and that to trust Him was in 
itself the greatest victory. 

The Elder, at, the close of the following week, when on 
his way to his “ appointment,” called to see her, and 
confidently expected, when he told her that he would pass 
through on the next Monday on his way home, that she 
would ask to go with him. 

She was very glad to see him, and the temptation to 
ask him to take her home came several times while he 
was there, but she was learning to conquer herself — the 
first and best step towards conquering all other things — 
and surprised the Elder, as well as herself, by saying that 
she was getting on well, and intended to stay until Christ- 
mas before going home. 

This heyeh’s whut they calls a college ur high-school, 
hain’t it? ” he asked Miss Camp and Miss Bell, the ladies 
in charge, who were as anxious to see a genuine speci- 


THROES OF CIVILISATION 207 


men of a primitive Baptist preacher, as the preacher 
was to see a college or high-school. 

“ Yes, sir ; and we would be glad to show you through 
the school-building, if you do not object,” the ladies re- 
plied. " This is our school-room, where the pupils study 
and recite their lessons,” was remarked when the preacher 
was ushered into the room. The blackboards first at- 
tracted his attention, and when he saw some girls writing 
upon them with chalk, he was so confounded that he 
stopped and asked, 

" Whut's them air gals a-doin* of?” 

“ One is copying a language lesson, and the others are 
working their problems in algebra.” 

“ \Vhutis them things y’u said ? They hain’t a-goin’ tuh 
help ’em do thar work tuh home any better, is they ? ” 

" Whatever educates the mind ought to help all of us 
to do better work, wherever we live,” answered Miss 
Camp. 

“ I hez lived in these heyeh mountains a good many 
yeahs, an’ I nuver hed no use fei* no sich thin’s as them 
gals hez on them boards. Is them th’ thin’s y’u air a- 
goin’ tuh lam tuh our Sis, heyeh?” 

“ We hope to have her do the same work as the others, 
as soon as she is able.” 

In order to entertain him and turn his thoughts in an- 
other direction. Miss Camp called his attention to a globe 
w’hich had recently been sent from New York. 

“ Whut’s that fer ? ” he asked. 


203 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


It is to show how the earth turns on its axis, and also 
to show its true shape, and, indeed, all its movements.’^ 
Yearth turnin’, an’ like that roun’ thin’ thar, ’s whut 
y’u say? Wall, I nuver heard th’ like o’ that sence I was 
horned into this life. Th’ yearth hain’t like that ’ar ball no 
sich thin’, an’ it don’t turn one bit, nuther. It’s still, as 
we knows at this minit. I hez bin heyeh too long an’ seen 
too much tuh be fooled like that.” 

** What of the night and day coming and going, if the 
earth does not turn. Elder ? ” Miss Camp asked gently. 

Why, th’ sun jest moves ; hit raises up in the mornin’ 
an’ hit sots at night, but th’ yearth hit don’t move.” 

Miss Camp changed the subject, and showed him the 
desks, the bell, and other furnishings, and with great 
tact avoided any further explanations and remarks about 
the uses of the school-appliances. 

He also saw Ruth’s room, and was so impressed by it — 
plain as it was — ^that he told in his next “ sarment ” at 
Salem Meeting House, that he could not believe his own 
eyes when he saw it all, an’ he didn’t see how Sis Fin- 
ley was a-goin’ tuh sleep in sich a fine place ’ithout 
a-losin’ her senses a-thinkin’ she wuz better ’an any- 
body else ; an’ as fer them ’omens, whar was at th’ head o’ 
that ’ar place, they jest opened thar heads an’ tol’ him up 
plumb ’bout th’ yearth a-goin’ ’roun’, an’ bein’ like a 
ball, — as ef they knowed more than all on us. 

“ Now, bretherun, ef ’omens air tuh do sich things as 
that cums tuh, we am got to pray more than we hev bin 


THROES OF CIVILISATION 209 


a-doin’ 'roun’ heyeh, ur God is a-goin’ tuh forsake us 
sure, an' ban’ us over tuh our enemies fer our destruc- 
tion.” 

During court week, when some important cases relating 
to land titles were being heard, Keith, who had been 
employed as counsel for the “ native ” owners, whom the 
speculators were trying to defraud of their rights, called 
one evening and presented a letter of introduction to 
Miss Camp from Mr. Gordon. He was gladly received, 
and when he asked to see Miss Finley, was accorded that 
privilege. 

Ruth was “ taken aback ” when she heard that he was 
in the reception-room and desired to see her. Her wild 
heart bounded with the thought that he had come for her, 
but life-long repression did not forsake her now, though 
she was so excited that she was alarmed lest, she might 
show it. 

“ I am very glad to see you. Miss Finley,” — ^he had 
taken his cue from hearing her spoken of by Miss Camp 
in that way, — “ and to see you really settled in school and 
under such teachers.” 

Ruth was paid for all she had suffered in thought and 
feeling, and a wave of joy swept over her that he approved 
of her being where she was. 

There were many subjects of conversation between the 
two, but most of what was said was about Yellowboro and 
the Gordons. Mr. Gordon's persecutions were now very 


210 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


great, because of his stand in relation to the lynching, and 
Keith was so full of the subject, in his admiration for 
his minister and his wife, that he never tired of talking 
of them. 

Although he did not tell Ruth of it, Keith had come in 
for his share in the minister’s troubles, as he was with 
him in everything he said and did in this matter. 

Ruth was alarmed at the peril of her friends, and asked, 
“ Do y’u think they’ll hurt Mr. Gordon, an’ don’t y’u 
think he said too much?” 

“ No, they are in great dread themselves from the 
natives,” and will not risk another outrage. The moun- 
tain people have no idea of doing them harm, but they 
are so cowardly that they are afraid to go out after 
dark, even to church, and it is surprising what a change 
we see on the streets. As to him speaking too freely, I 
am proud of a man who dares to stand for the right with 
two or three. I believe if men generally were like our 
minister, Yellowboro would be a different place.” 

“ Did they fin’ out who shot Ham Simms, an’ who th’ 
men wuz whut lynched Clem Jones ? ” Sis asked. 

The general opinion is that the man who sold the 
moonshine that morning to Ham was the man who shot 
him, but there is no clue, which is spoken of, as to who 
that man was. A day or two before I left, it was becom- 
ing known that Clem was one of the Mack party in the 
feud, and that he had fled when the feud was settled; 
but the knowledge is kept very close.” 


THROES OF CIVILISATION 211 


“ Hev y’u ever heard Uncle Harve talked of when they 
says anythin^ ’bout it ? ” Sis inquired. 

“ His name has never been mentioned, to my knowl- 
edge, in connection with it,” Keith replied. 

At parting, as Keith was to return to Yellowboro 
the next day, he went as far as he thought prudent in 
urging Ruth to go through the school and master every 
study given her. He added, that as his successes in the 
cases just closed had brought him several more, he would 
be up for the next court, and also the one following, and 
would call and see how she was getting on. 

Ruth, stirred at seeing him, and by his very marked 
interest in her education seemed like a new creature. It 
was beautiful and pathetic to see this magnificent girl 
rise to the call of her heart, and make her body and mind 
obedient to its notes of sublime exaltation. 

Going to church was at first a great trial to the girl. 
She was too old and grown up for the ordinary classes 
in the Sunday-school, and so Miss Camp took her with 
the other girls in her Bible class. She could not find the 
places nor understand the many references made by her 
teacher to the most common incidents in the Scriptures, 
and her mortification was for a time extreme. 

This she endured for two or three Sundays, and then 
she went to Miss Camp and told her about it, and asked 
for a Bible, saying she would stay away from class for 
a few weeks and would master these things and then 
return and profit by what was taught. 


212 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Miss Camp at once told her not to stay away, and that 
night, after study-hour, she took Ruth into her room, 
and, giving her a Bible, spent an hour showing her what 
was mechanical about it, and how to get at its teachings. 

Ruth was told but once, and for the remainder of 
the week much of her spare time was given to her new 
treasure, so that when the Sabbath came again, she was 
free from her mortification, and entered into what was 
new and delightful to her — ^the study of the Word of 
God. 

She missed the simplicity, directness, and earnestness of 
old Elder Morgan's preaching, and, truth to tell, his 
peculiar “ ou, ou ah," and the manner in which he em- 
phasised his teachings. The minister she now listened to 
used so many words she could not understand, and was 
so precise and dull in his delivery, that she could only 
follow him by standing at the line of the great chasm of 
thought dug for her in his unintelligible words, and 
wait for him to come back to her and give her a crumb 
which had fallen from the children's table — ^that is, as if 
the great philosophers and divine, who were not present, 
were the children. 

But the music was her delight. Miss Bell directed the 
singing, using Gospel Hymns in a way which reached 
her heart, and caused her to see her Saviour as never be- 
fore. 

When Mr. Gordon came to hold a two-days' meeting, 
and told the truth in simple speech and in clear state- 


THROES OF CIVILISATION 213 


merits, such as Jesus used, pressing all home by an 
earnestness which was contagious, and with a tenderness 
that caused the hearts of his hearers to be moved, as was 
his own, by the great love of God in giving His only Sbn 
to die for the sins of the world, Ruth was greatly moved. 
Although she made no outward sign of her emotion, she 
spent much of the night in deep thought, and in the early 
morning she awoke her room-mate, a sincere, simple- 
hearted Christian girl, and told her that she had entered a 
new world and was as much surprised as rejoiced at 
what she saw and felt. 

As soon as Miss Camp was heard moving in her room, 
these girls went to her, and Ruth told her what had come 
to her in the night, and thus Miss Camp gained her first 
convert from among the feud element of the mountain 
people. 


XXIII 


THE MOONSHINERS 

C OLONEL PERRY, the United States Marshal 
for Kentucky, had sent his deputies in different 
divisions to arrest the moonshiners in the region 
about Smith's Court House. He himself had gone alone 
to attend to some business which needed his personal 
attention in the neighbourhood of Uncle Harve's 
cabin. 

He had been in that vicinity so many times that he was 
very well known, and had been in the habit of spending 
the night with the son of Uncle Harve, who lived in a 
better house, and on a better farm, than any other in the 
region. He was always given a welcome, and his men 
and horses, as well as himself, were furnished with every- 
thing they needed. 

The Colonel had not the least suspicion that his host 
was in any way connected with the moonshine business, 
either in making or selling. He had at times seen some of 
the class of mountain men who were engaged in the trade 
around the place, but believed that they were workmen 
upon the farm, or else, as was told him, cutting timber 
and preparing it for the spring freshets, when it would be 
rafted down the river. 


214 


THE MOONSHINERS 


215 


His host never showed any fear or nervousness when 
he was at the house. He would not talk about his pur- 
pose in being in the mountains, nor give him informa- 
tion in regard to the doings of the people; but that 
was the uniform custom of everyone throughout the 
country, and aroused no suspicion in the Colonel’s 
mind. 

That night he thought he saw a slight difference in the 
cordiality of his host, but dismissed the bad impressions 
as being unjust and unfounded. 

The fact was, that he had come upon a night when a 
•number of barrels of the moonshine had to be moved, to 
meet a contract in the blue-grass region, and as his host 
was the largest dealer in the spirit in that county, not 
only in making it himself, but buying it from the men 
who had small stills further back from the roads, his 
coming gave the moonshiner the alternative of either 
breaking his word to the men, who were coming a long 
distance to get what they had bought, or of circumvent- 
ing the United States Marshal. 

There was a fierce debate among the moonshiners as to 
whether it was better to kill the Colonel, now that he was 
in their power, and be done with the matter, or to run the 
risk of having his suspicions aroused, so as to bring him 
back in a few days to raid the premises, and put them in 
prison for a term of years. 

It was determined to try and move out the whiskey 
as they had intended, and if they were convinced that 


216 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


the Colonel had become suspicious of them, to take him 
up upon the rocks and kill him. The wagons came on 
from Lexington as was expected, and were loaded be- 
tween midnight and dawn, and but for an accident there 
would have been no fear of the Colonel being in any 
way aroused. But in careless handling, by a man who 
had indulged too freely in the moonshine, a barrel slipped 
from the plank which was being used for a skid, and, 
rolling down over the rocks, was broken so as to let all 
the whiskey escape. 

It was clear, then, that when the Marshal got up in 
the morning and took his walk to the stable to see after 
his horse, he would smell the whiskey which had soaked 
into the ground and that was enough evidence for him 
to bring his men and search the premises. 

When Colonel Perry went to his breakfast, — ^having 
over-slept himself he had not gone to see to his horse, — 
he left his pistols hanging in his belt upon a chair by the 
side of the bed upon which he had slept. If he had gone 
t.o the stable and detected the odour of the whiskey, he 
would have been very careful to have had them with 
him, for they were his only hope of escape. 

Now, cheerful and bright, and with his usual courtesy 
addressing his hostess in complimentary terms, he took 
his seat and began to help himself to what the table 
offered. 

Suddenly, without the least warning, the doors of the 
room were filled with men armed with Winchesters, 


THE MOONSHINERS 


217 


which were pointed at him, and the order was given in 
harsh, peremptory tones, “ Hold up y’r ban’s, or y’u’re a 
dead man.” 

The Colonel deliberately pushed back his chair and 
said, '' I have no arms, you can see them in the 
room where I spent the night, and there is no use for 
me to hold up my hands. Shoot as quickly as you 
please.” 

He rose and stood so as to face both doors as nearly as 
possible and gave himself up as a dead man. While 
several men covered him with guns, others came and 
bound his hands behind his back, saying : “ We don’t 
want tuh kill y’u in th’ house, but we’ll take y’u back in 
th’ mount’ins a piece.” 

Just as you please, gentlemen,” the Colonel said. ** I 
am altogether at your service.” 

When he was bound, his hat was brought to him and 
put upon his head, and he was led out of the house and 
up the mountains. After a walk of over a half-hour, he 
was brought to a glade and put with his back against a 
pine tree, and securely bound to it, his hands having been 
released. 

His host then came forward and told him that if he had 
not known before, that they were making and selling 
whiskey, that it would be impossible for him to leave the 
place that morning without knowing it, therefore the 
men had in council determined that the only thing left 
for them to do was to kill him, and, as dead men tell no 


218 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


tales/’ he could neither tell on them or come after them 
with his deputies. 

*‘Y’u kin hev ten minutes fer prayin’ ur fer anythin’ 
y’u wants afore them men shoot y’u,” were the words 
with which this speech concluded. 

No braver man ever trod the soil of Kentucky than 
Colonel Perry, and now that he was certain that in a very 
few minutes he was to meet God, he did not quail. He 
took off his watch, which was a fine one, and given him 
as a token of esteem by the men in his office, and handing 
it to his host, told him to send it in some way to his wife, 
and asked for a piece of paper and a pencil that he might 
write a note to go with it. 

This request disturbed the men, as they had neither 
paper or pencil and they did not want to go to the house 
to get them from the Colonel’s saddle-bags, where he told 
them they could be found. 

After some conference among the would-be murderers, 
the host said that a man would be sent to his father’s 
cabin, which was very near where they were, and if paper 
could be found there, his request would be granted, only 
he must be careful what he wrote. 

It was not long until the messengers returned, accom- 
panied by Uncle Harve, with a page torn from an old 
copy-book and a short pencil. 

Uncle Harve was greatly moved by what he had been 
told as well as by what he now saw. He demanded to 
see his son, and two or three of the men in private, that 


THE MOONSHINERS 


219 


they might lay the whole case before him. After they 
had gone behind the rocks, the Colonel was given the 
paper and pencil and wrote : 

** Dearest: I am to die in a few moments in the dis- 
charge of my duty. I am as highly honoured by this as 
if I fell upon the field of battle, when the fight was in all 
its fury. I have no fear, because I trust in Him who has 
been the strength of my heart ever since you knew me, 
Jesus Christ, my living Lord. I am sorry that I could 
not provide more amply for you and our children, but 
God is your friend, and He is always more than husband 
and father to those who trust Him. Kiss our children 
for me every day and remember to tell them that the 
name they bear has never been dishonoured by cow- 
ardice, and they must bear it as all their fathers have 
done. With all the love I can hold within my being, I 
love you, my dearest. 

“J. M. Perry.” 

While this note was being written, there was a sharp 
debate among the rocks back of him. He could hear the 
sound of the voices, but could not distinguish the words. 
The principal speaker in this debate was Uncle Harve, 
who was saying, in his usual vehement way : 

Ye air goin' tuh ruin y'uselves an' all this county ef 
y'u shoot that man. 

How kin y’u keep it from bein' foun' out? His men 


220 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


’ll be heyeh ’fore th’ sun goes down a-huntin’ uv him, an’ 
when they don’t fin’ him, they’ll sarch all th’ region like 
huntin’ fer a needle in a hay-stack. If y’u fight ’em an’ 
kill ’em, as ye may, that ’ll only bring more on ’em, an’, 
let me tell y’u, th’ army o^ th’ United States air too much 
fer all th’ men in these mount’ins. Ye hed better go an’ 
cut them ropes an’ tell him ye all surrenders tuh him, an’ 
that y’u ’ll nuver hev anythin’ tuh do ’ith anuther drap o’ 
moonshine so long as ye live. 

Ef y’u kills him, ye’ll hev to gin it up an’ either git 
killed, ur spen’ all y’r lives in jail, an’ so th’ better way’s 
to gin it all up now, an’ make th’ bes’ barg’in y’u kin ’ith 
him. Hit were th’ bigges’ fool’ trick I uver hearn tell on 
to let them folks cum heyeh las’ night. Ye ought ter 
stopped ’em, ef y’u nuver sold ’em any more, long as y’u 
live.” 

This speech unsettled many of the men, and, at the 
suggestion of one of them, it was agreed that the proposi- 
tion be made to the Colonel, that if he would promise 
upon the honour of a man to go home and not speak of 
what had happened to anyone, and so bring them into 
trouble, that he would be released, given his property, 
and sent on his way. 

When Colonel Perry was told of this, there was a 
moment of temptation, as love of life and of wife and 
children clamoured for him to accept it. He thought, ** I 
can surely not be considered wrong in getting away and 
then refusing to keep faith with such outlaws.” He only 


THE MOONSHINERS 221 

struggled for a moment with himself, and then his reply 
was this : 

“ I cannot, as an officer of the Government, promise 
what you ask. My sworn duty is to hunt down and 
arrest such men as you are, as violators of the law, and 
I will never go back on my oath under any circumstances. 
If I gave you my word, I would keep it, and, knowing 
myself to be a dishonoured man, I could not respect 
myself, and my condition would be worse than death.’’ 

“ Then time’s up, but ef y’u wants tuh pray, y’u kin 
hev two minits afore y’u die,” the leader said. 

With an old bull’s eye watch in hand, this man stood 
while five others, their Winchesters cocked, stood in a 
line about ten paces from the bound and helpless pris- 
oner. 

The Colonel closed his eyes and his lips moved, though 
no sound came from them. 

When the two minutes were up, the leader put his 
watch in his pocket and stepped aside saying, “ When I 
drops my hat, all on y’u fire an’ aim fer his heart so’s tuh 
kill him at onct.” 

He took off his hat and held it in his hand, while the 
five executioners watched him in breathless expectation. 
“ One, two, three,” the man counted slowly and in firm 
voice, when, like a wild-cat from the mountains. Uncle 
Harve sprang before them, rushed to the bound man, and 
exclaimed : 

Shoot me, too. I’d ruther die ’ith him now, than tuh 


222 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


be hunted tub death like a wir beas’ by men who wears th* 
same uniform I wore fer four long years, an’ see any o’ 
me family in prison ur starvin’ tuh death.” 

The guns were slowly lowered while every eye was 
fastened upon the man who thus risked his life for 
another. 

** I’ll tell on ye shore as ye’re bom, ef y’u kills this 
man,” cried the old man. Now untie him an’ let him 

The host stepped forward, with his hat in his hand, 
which he threw on the ground at Colonel Perry’s feet, 
and, drawing his knife, he cut his bonds and said : Y’u 
heard whut th’ ol’ man said ; y’u kin go.” 

The Colonel when he realised that he was actually free 
to return to his home and that instead of sending a note, 
he was to see his loved ones again, felt a faintness come 
over him, and for a few minutes he could see nothing. 

Thus it often happens with the strong and the brave. 
Prepared for death, and braced to meet its consequences, 
trusting in God and having no thought of fear, his 
principles bore the shock with great calmness; but the 
revulsion was too much for his nerves, and the heart 
almost stopped beating, when love spoke to it and hope 
pointed the way to joys now evermore to be more tense 
and soul-inspiring because so nearly lost. 

When he recovered sufficiently to go on towards the 
house. Uncle Harve, with his son and several of the men, 
surrounded and went with him. After he mounted his 


THE MOONSHINERS 223 

horse, the old man and his son also mounted horses and 
continued in his company. 

“ You need not come with me, as I know the road very 
well,’' the Colonel said. 

“ It’s tuh keep some o’ them men frum shootin’ o’ y’u 
frum behin’ th’ rocks,” was the reply. They’re mighty 
sullen, an’ ef we hain’t heyeh they moight gin y’u y’r 
dose.” 

Uncle Harve,” quietly remarked Colonel Perry, 

don’t you think you had better quit this bad business, 
and turn over a new leaf and lead a new life? I will do 
everything I can to help you with the Government, so 
you will have as little trouble as possible.” 

“ I don’t think it’s wrong, or I’d nuver toch it ’ith th’ 
tip o’ my leetle finger,” Uncle Harve answered. We 
plants th’ co’n an’ ploughs it, an’ when we pulls it an* 
puts it in our cribs, it’s oum, an’ no gover‘’ment nur any- 
thin’ nur anybody else hez any right tuh one grain 
on it. 

** We kin grin’ it fer bread ur feed it fer pork ur gin it 
fer feed to our bosses ur cattle, an’ no gover’ment hez 
anythin’ tuh say ur do ’bout it, but ef we makes a mash on 
it, an’ runs it through a crooked tube an’ gits th’ sperits 
out o’ it an’ then drinks a drap on it ur gives some on it 
tuh a frien’, ur even hev it in our house ’ithout usin’ on 
it, y’u comes down on us an’ burns an’ breaks up our 
thin’s an’ drags us off from home in chains, an’ puts us in 
jail, sometimes fer years. 


224 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


** We hain’t done nothin* mean, we jest doin’ whut we 
hev a right tuh do, an* it*s nobody*s consarn but oum. 
Let th* gover*ment we fought an* shed our blood fer let 
us ’lone, an* we’ll tend tuh our own bizness.” 

At these words, the old man put his hand to his breast 
and said, “ He’yeh’s whar th* bay’net struck me when I 
were in that charge *ith th* ol* Elder at Perry ville, an* 
this arm,” holding up his arm; y’u’ll see’s crooked 
’cause a bullet broke it down in North Carliny, when I 
were in at th* las’ battle *ith Uncle Billy Sherman. 

“ Don’t I love this country, an* hain’t I willin’ tuh die 
fer it? Let th* men who knows me tell y’u. Hev I tuh 
he hunted frum rock tuh rock jest ’cause I wants tuh do 
as I please ’ith me own? No, I won’t be no slave in me 
own country an* on me own Ian’ tuh a gover’ment I’d give 
me life fer.” 

The Colonel was not prepared to hear such a defence. 
It gave him a different point of view from that which he 
had had hitherto. His only thought was that these moon- 
shiners had no excuse for violating the laws of the land 
and becoming what he was pleased to call outlaws. He 
felt he must make some reply to the old man and said : 
** You know that the government cannot be run without 
a large amount of money and that it has the right to put 
taxes upon whatever it wishes. Whiskey is an evil and 
ruins so many persons that we cannot count them. It is 
not good policy to have it cheap and plentiful, and for 
this reason the government puts a tax upon it for the 


THE MOONSHINERS 


225 


double purpose of making it more difficult and expensive 
to get, and of bringing a large sum of money into its 
treasury. 

‘‘ To get this money, there must be men to measure the 
whiskey and collect the taxes due. If you are allowed 
to make whiskey on your land in secret, and sell it when 
and where you will, all others must be given the same 
privilege, or the government will be unjust, and so would 
lose its right to exist. 

'' You can make all the whiskey you want to make, if 
you will do it openly and pay the taxes on it.’' 

But we can’t pay th’ taxes, an’ we bin havin’ whiskey 
whun we wants it all our lives, an’ our preachers drinks 
it ’ith us, an’ teaches us that it hain’t wrong. Our Elder 
calls it one o’ God’s good critters, an’ that th’ ’postle Paul 
says all such am good to use. Y’r talk may do fer whar 
y’r cum frum, but we can’t do ’ithout whiskey, an’ th’ 
way y’u air doin’ takes every drap on it frum us.” 

“But why do you sell? Your son here, I find, is in 
the business of shipping it down into our county.” 

“ Jest becose we mought as well be hung fer a sheep as 
a lamb. Ef y’u’d let us ’lone, we wouldn’t sell a drap 
’cept tuh our neighbours, but y’u won’t do that, an’ hunts 
us all y’u kin, so we mought jest as well all make all we 
kin an’ sell it tuh th’ ones whut ’ll buy it. It makes it no 
worse fer us tuh hev a barrel then a cupful.” 

The men had now reached a point where it was safe 
for the Colonel to go on alone, and they stopped to take 


226 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

leave of him. The Colonel extended his hand to Uncle 
Harve and said with great feeling : “I thank you for 
saving my life, for I would have been dead in two seconds 
if you had not interfered. Do come with me and let me 
fix this matter up for you so that you can go home and 
live the remainder of your life in peace. My wife will 
be very glad to see you, and have you at our house, and 
we will do everything in our power to help you and all 
whom you love.” 

No, I’ll nuver leave these mount’ins on sich an erran’. 
I bin ’ith me people in this thin’, an' don’t feel it’s wrong, 
an’ I won’t take whut they can’t git jest th’ same as me.” 

As he said this, the old man grew straighter and seemed 
to shed a light from his weather-beaten face as he took the 
Colonel’s hand, and said good-bye after the manner of the 
people of the mountains. 

When the father and son turned back and left him, the 
Colonel looked over his shoulder at them as he rode on as 
long as he could see them, and wondered what he could 
do to help them. 


XXIV 


THE RAID 

T he impulse of the Marshal was to gather his men 
at once and go down upon the distillery he had 
accidentally discovered, but when he reached the 
Court House, he fell in a fever and was compelled to lie 
in bed for weeks. 

When able to be taken to Louisville, he sent for the 
Assistant Marshal and told him what he had endured, 
and what information had come to him, and asked him to 
act for him during his illness and do what was needed to 
be done as soon as possible. 

This assistant had been a colonel in the United States 
army, and while he did not like the idea of catching and 
sending t,o prison men who fought as he did, yet collected 
a large number of deputies and set off for the moun- 
tains. 

When they reached a place ten miles from where they 
knew the mountaineers had the still, they stopped, as 
night had come on, and rested themselves and their horses, 
at the same time taking food. 

It required three hours or more to reach the place, as 
the roads were very rocky, and in many places steep. 

227 


228 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


When within a mile of the house, they dismounted, and, 
leaving a guard with their horses, proceeded slowly and 
with great caution to surround the house. 

After they had every way of escape, as they supposed, 
closed, the commander rapped upon the door with the butt 
of his pistol and demanded to have it opened in the name 
and by the authority of the government of the United 
States. 

There was no answer, and, rapping again and again, 
and no sound being heard, he at least said, in a loud and 
peremptory voice : If this door is not opened, we will 
break it down.’^ 

A woman’s voice then answered, “ There hain’t no men 
in th’ house, an’ y’u hed better go ’way an’ leave us 
alone.” 

Open the door, for we must see for ourselves,” the 
officer demanded. 

Then someone was heard moving within, and a faint 
light was soon seen gleaming. The bar across the door 
was taken out and the door opened. A woman, fully 
dressed, was standing there with a small iron lamp in her 
hand. 

'' Where are the men of the house ? ” was the next 
question of the commander. 

** I tol’ y’u they hain’t heyeh, an’ I don’t know behin’ 
whut rock ur tree they’re now a-waitin’ fer y’u.” 

This remark did not comfort the officer and his men 
who had heard it, but as he was not seeking for com- 


T H E R A I D 229 

fort, but trying to perform his duty, he called to some of 
the men and proceeded to search the house. 

There was no sign of the moonshiners, and not a gun 
or a particle of ammunition was to be found. In the 
cabin there were two women and a number of children, 
but nothing from which they could get the least clue to 
what was their purpose in coming. It was far too 
dangerous to search in the rocks and woods for the still, 
or for the men whom they had warrants for, in the com- 
ing darkness, and they were thus compelled to lie to for 
the remainder of the night. 

No information would the women give about anything, 
nor would they aid them in giving them food for them- 
selves or horses. They saw clearly that it was an en- 
emies’ country they were in, and that no quarter was to 
be given or asked. 

After taking what feed they could find for the horses, 
and leaving them with a guard, they proceeded on foot 
to search the rocks and ravines back of the house for some 
evidences of a still. 

There was nothing to guide them, and the only thing 
was to follow the paths, and try to find the way by which 
the barrels of whiskey were brought out. This they 
could do up to a certain point, but beyond a flat place, 
where it was evident that they were filled from buckets 
brought there by human hands, they could discover 
nothing— not the least clue to the location of the still. 
Every path was followed carefully to where it apparently 


230 SONS OF VENGEANCE 
ended, and not a still, or evidence of where one had been, 
was seen. 

The day was wearing away, when a man who had been 
sent up to a ragged heap of rocks above their heads to 
keep a look-out for the moonshiners, lest they should 
come upon them by surprise, shouted that he had found a 
place where the rocks were stained with smoke. 

Hearing this, the commander and some of the most 
skilful of his men clambered upon these rocks, and saw 
that they were thrown upon each other by some con- 
vulsion of nature, and that there were spaces of an inch 
or two or more between them down which they could not 
see, but which would permit the light to enter from the 
top and also the smoke to come from below. 

That moonshine plant is down below this pile of 
rocks, for the smoke has so stained them that fires have 
been burning there for a long time,” the commander said, 

but we have searched around the base of it in every 
way we know how, and not a sign has there been of 
human foot ever going in or out. There must be some 
way by which that fire is built and kept burning, so we 
must go over our work again, and see if we can find the 
way they get under here.” 

One of the men said : '' They can't do this kind of a 
thing without having a trail, and I believe I can find it if 
you'll give me time enough.” 

“ Take all the time you want, and if you find the still 
I will give you twenty-five dollars.” 


THE RAID 


231 


All around the rocks the search was again made, but 
without success. An old mountain man, who came from 
the region of the Big Sandy River, said : “ Y’u’ll nuver 
unlock th’ secret th’ way y'u’re goin’ about it. Go fu’ther 
off an’ y’u’ll git on thar trac’. That ravine down thar, 
which looks from heyeh like it wus kivered all over ’ith 
bushes, mought be th’ way they gets in.” 

Take some men and search it, and see what you can 
find,” was the command. 

When the ravine was reached, it was plain that many 
persons had passed through it, and for a long time. 
There was quite a path, and the bushes had been broken 
away in many places. These marks led to a log which 
was over a wide gap, one end of which was on a ledge of 
rock. The log had been used for a crossing-place, by the 
way in which the bark had been worn smooth; but there 
was no sign of an opening at the end resting upon the 
ledge. Over it, however, the men cooned it,” and when 
the one leading reached the ledge and examined it for a 
short distance, he found, to his joy, that there was an 
opening under a huge rock, which looked like the mouth 
of a cave. 

With cocked guns, and expecting to be fired upon every 
moment, the men stooped and entered this gloomy open- 
ing and found that it soon became much higher, and that 
they could see their way easily from the light which came 
through the rifts in the mass of rocks above them. 

Walking along this way, they came to a large place 


232 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


where there had been a still, that judging from the signs 
had been worked for years. Everything of any value 
had been removed, so that there was nothing either tp 
destroy or to take with them as evidence before a jury. 

When the commanding officer came — upon the sum- 
mons of those who had found the place — ^he looked at it 
and said : “ It is the most wonderful place of its kind I 
have ever seen, and no man but one raised in the moun- 
tains could ever have found it. Five determined men 
could defend it against all the force we have brought. I 
am glad of one thing it shows, that they are not going to 
fight us, but have run away, for if they were in for a fight, 
they would never have left this place, for there can be no 
better found for them, I am sure.” 

“Don’t be too sartin,” the mountain man said. 
“ They’ve taken away thar belongin’s so’s tuh go tuh 
another place, ’cause they’re shore y’u’d either fin’ this 
un, ur watch ’em so close they couldn’t work heyeh no 
longer. They’s a heap o’ places jest as good as this un 
fer them an’ thar business, an’ as bad fer us, ef we under- 
takes tuh follow ’em. Be warned an’ don’t go any further 
in these rocks arter these men, fer, ef y’u do, some of us 
air tuh die this day.” 

“ I am not here to listen to such talk as that, but to 
arrest the men who run this still, and who captured and 
maltreated Colonel Perry, and came near murdering him. 
Down into that ravine and find the way these men went 
out.” 


THE RAID 


233 


“No doubt they went out by th' house, an th’ road, 
that wuz the asiest an’ th’ safest way fer ’em. Y’u hed 
better try th’ road, an’ I jedge it ’ll be a smart man whut 
fin’s whar they took tuh th’ lorrel an’ went tuh th’ rocks 
ag’in.” 

“ Now, Big Sandy, you have done good work for to- 
day, don’t show the ' white feather ’ so soon,” the com- 
mander replied. 

“ I’ll hev y’u know thet I’m a sworn officer o’ th’ 
gover’ment, an’ that I’ll do my duty to th’ last p’int. Ef 
y ’u ’re anxious tuh go intuh th’ mouth o’ hell, cum on, 
I’m with y’u; but don’t say I didn’t tell y’u what wuz 
afore y’u in th’ way o’ trouble.” 

Utterly discouraged, and not getting the least intima- 
tion of the direction taken by the moonshiners, the posse 
of deputies camped for the night at a little cabin on the 
roadside, where there was a spring of good water, and 
near which were several farms of the better quality, from 
which they hoped to get feed for their horses. 

Every inquiry made by them had been met in the same 
way; nothing was known by the person inquired of as to 
the whereabouts or purposes of the men whom they were 
seeking. 

The commander had consulted with the most ex- 
perienced men in his band, and it was their united 
opinion that it would be better to give up the hunt for 
the present, and after the moonshiners had established 
themselves in the new place selected by them, to come 


234 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


back and find them, as they would be sure, in carrying 
on their business, to make some signs. 

After all had lain down on the ground to get what rest 
was possible under the circumstances they were in, except 
the sentinel, a man who had every appearance of being a 
mountaineer came to him in the road, and asked to see 
the Captain. 

Being brought in, he announced without much parley, 
that if the Captain wanted to find the retreating moon- 
shiners, he knew where they were, and was ready to take 
them to the place, if he was sure of protection after it was 
over, by being taken with them to Louisville, and pro- 
vided for there. 

The Captain was, naturally, doubtful of this man, and 
feared that he was sent to lead them into a trap. He 
immediately awakened Big Sandy and brought him into 
the conference. George Ball, for that was the man’s 
name, told this tale to show the reason for his action : 

Fs th’ man whut let th’ barrel of moonshine slip 
outen my ban’s th’ night th’ big man wuz heah. I’d 
bin drinkin’ more whiskey ’an I could carry, an’ I wa’n’t 
strong an’ steady ’nuff ter keep a hoi’ on sich a heavy 
thin’. Tom Turner cussed me all blue, an’ he tol’ me ef 
I didn’t git right outen his way an’ nuver cum in his sight 
agin, thet he’d put a bullet clar through me. I’s bin 
layin’ in th’ mount’ins ’roun’ heah ever sence, an’ 
nobody ’ll give me anythin’ ter do ur a bite ter eat, ’cept 
th’ folks in th’ cabin over yander. I jist got ter git even 


THE RAID 


235 


’ith Tom, an' now’s my chance. I watched ’em an’ I 
knows whar they is, an’ kin take y’u ter whar y’u kin 
git all ’round ’em an’ ketch most on ’em.” 

Big Sandy at once asked, “ Whar did y’u cum f rum ? 
Y’u ain’t no mountain-man, y’u don’t talk exac’ly like one, 
nur y’u don’t act like one.” 

Ball showed his uneasiness at this remark, and after 
some hesitation said : “ Fs ain’t from aroun’ heah, but I 
cums from th’ mount’ins yander in Virginy.” 

What made y’u cum? Run out o’ thar, I reckon, like 
Turner run you out o’ his ranks fer some very good 
r’ason,” Big Sandy replied. 

Fs wer’ on th’ wrong side of a feud over thar, an’ I 
got work ’ith Turner when Fs cum over heah ’cause I 
could use th’ still better ’an he could.” 

The Captain, after hearing all he could or would dis- 
close of himself and the men to whom he had proved 
traitor, made up his mind to keep him under the guard 
of Big Sandy and another trusty man, whom he directed 
to shoot him upon the least evidence of a purpose to be- 
tray them, and to arouse his posse to undertake the cap- 
ture of the outlaws. 

He knew that the probability was that his men would 
suffer at the hands of those whom he was seeking, but 
said, when this was spoken of by his chief deputy : “ If 
we ever get these men, it must be after a fight, in which 
we will suffer loss, and I see no prospect of having a 
better opening than the present. I despise this traitor, 


236 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

but we must use someone of his kind to find what we 
are seeking.” 

Ball did not resist having his arms taken away from 
him, and, though somewhat sullen, moved by the base and 
devouring passion of vengeance, he lent himself to the 
work he had promised to do. 

His plan was t,o move slowly on foot and get to the 
place by midnight, when the moonshiners were asleep; 
and as there were but two ways through which they 
could escape, to post a strong body of men at both these 
points behind the rocks, and then scatter some other men 
in the woods above t,hem to open fire upon them when 
they refused to surrender, as he was sure they would do. 

It was a rough and steep path over which the posse 
trod that night, and it was two hours of great exhaustion, 
before Ball whispered to his guards that they were now 
near the place and that they had better stop for a while 
and rest, and wait until the moon rose higher. 

The moonshiners had no one on guard. They had 
watched the movements of the posse all day, and when 
they went into camp for the night, were certain that they 
would not move before morning, and that no man could 
find them in the night. 

They calculated rightly, and were now, in their uncon- 
scious sleep, awaiting the bullets of the deputies, because 
they were by nature incapable of supposing that there 
was a creature in all the mountains as base and low as 
Ball. 


THE RAID 


237 

When sufficiently rested, Ball led the way to the place 
of entrance into the refuge of the moonshiners, and after 
the Captain had posted his men and given them orders in 
no case to allow anyone to pass them, the Captain and 
some of his men were led to where they could see down 
below them a fire, which was now reduced almost to black 
coals. He could see, by the bright moonlight, that several 
men were lying around the fire, and at once concluded 
that he had but a few to contend with. He was to awake 
amid the flash of rifles, to learn of his great mistake, for 
the men were sleeping on beds made of leaves and pine- 
tops in various little hollows in the rocks, but were all 
within call of the chieftain. 

Looking down a hundred feet or more, it was his pur- 
pose to call on Turner, explain to him the situation and 
ask him, as he could not escape, quietly to surrender and 
prevent loss of life. 

This could not be carried out, for the reason that one of 
the men loosened a stone, which in its descent started 
others, and the noise they made awoke Turner and a 
number of his followers. 

It was almost immediately after the stone struck the 
place where the moonshiners lay, that their rifles began 
to speak; hence there was no time to utter a word. A 
man fell dead by the Captain’s side, and two others were 
wounded before they were sufficiently recovered from 
their astonishment to use their guns. In the use of fire- 
arms the deputies were at a great disadvantage, when in 


238 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

battle with the mountain-men. The latter could shoot 
better and quicker, were far cooler, and kept their wits 
about them ; but as the deputies were six to one, and were 
brave, it was only a question of time when the moon- 
shiners would be defeated. 

Ball begged for his arms that he might shoot Tom 
Turner, who, he hissed, was the one who shot so quickly 
and had killed the man by the Captain’s side. They were 
given to him, as Big Sandy did not wish to carry them 
any longer, and needed freedom to use his own. 

Ball crouched like a wild cat and slipped from rock to 
rock, until he was some distance in front of his com- 
panions, and many feet below them. 

The deputies had scarcely recovered from their sur- 
prise in the way they had been so suddenly met and 
opened fire, which was so far without effect, before Ball, 
from the secure hiding-place he had found, shot the brave 
and vigilant Turner through the body, and he fell to lie 
there, and after a few moments of great pain, to die. 

Ball curled his lips, laughed like a human hyena, and 
would not fire another shot. 

When Turner fell, the men, who had now begun to 
shoot from behind the rocks, made a movement to retreat ; 
but, being met by the guard posted to drive them back, 
and two or three of them being wounded, rushed back 
and made for the other way of escape, to be met as at the 
first one. 

Only one man was here killed. 


THE RAID 


239 


At this juncture an old white-haired man was seen 
seated by Tom Turner’s body and giving what seemed 
to the Captain of the Marshals evidences of grief. 
Several shots were fired at him, but he was not touched. 

When his son was certainly dead, Uncle Harve, for it 
was he, arose, seeing that the men would be finally cap- 
tured or killed, if they stayed where they were, as the 
guards at both places of egress from the trap where they 
were now caught had moved in the wake of the men when 
they had been driven back, and were now beginning to 
fire upon them, and shaking himself, like the mighty men 
of valour in the olden tjmes of our race, shouted, '' Form 
behin’ me, men; we’ll break out o’ heyeh ur die a-tryin’.” 

They knew the voice now summoning them, and the 
man whose heart had been broken at the death of his first- 
born child, now seemed infused with the daring and 
strength of many departed heroes; firing his Winchester 
as he advanced, he led them into the vortex of death. He 
did not care to live. The thought that dominated his 
energy was to avenge his son, and to save the men who 
now followed him from prison or death. 

If the men of the posse had stayed where Ball placed 
them. Uncle Harve would have failed. Their advance 
had widened their front, and had brought them out from 
the rocks which protected them, so, when Uncle Harve 
and his men came upon them, they were pushed aside and 
several of them went down either killed or wounded. 

When it seemed that all the moonshiners would escape. 


240 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


except those who had been wounded, Uncle Harve, who 
was now out beyond the guards and free to go as he 
would in safety, turned back to see if all the men were 
with him, and suddenly fell upon his face, being shot by 
someone from above him in the rocks. 

As he fell, his younger son and several of his immediate 
relations and friends, stopped by what they supposed to 
be his dead body, and the way being closed by some men, 
led by Ball with the Captain, coming down and getting 
in the gap, they were captured. 

No more broken-hearted men ever gathered around a 
fallen hero than those now tenderly touching the person 
of the old soldier, and shedding tears of heartfelt grief 
as they mourned over him, lying there among the rocks 
he loved so well, fit emblems of his strong and rugged 
character. 

When the deputies all came together and it was made 
known to them that the man whose white hair was re- 
flecting the moonbeams, was the man who had so 
dramatically saved the life of Colonel Perry, they took 
off their hats in solemn awe, and the Captain mentioned 
to his son and relatives that they were free to care for 
him as best they could. 

The old man was not dead, and when Big Sandy and 
one of the moonshiners had staunched his wound and 
given him some whiskey, he recovered and was able to 
speak. He asked nothing for himself, but told his cap- 
tors that he wished his son^s body to be given to his 


T H E R A I D 241 

friends and that the other wounded man should be well 
cared for. 

It was a task which put all the ingenuity and skill of 
the victors to a full test to get the dead and wounded 
men out of the place. It was, however, accomplished 
after a time, by carrying some upon the backs of strong 
men and others upon litters which the old soldiers knew 
how to make. 

Big Sandy, at his earnest request, was allowed to care 
for Uncle Harve. When he went to him, putting his 
powder-stained hand on his face, and stooping over, 
said, “ Uncle Harve, ol’ man, how are y’u feelin’ now ? '' 
Uncle Harve looked into his face and said weakly, but 
with great feeling, “ Jim, is that air y’u, an’ hev we bin 
a-fightin’ one another? ” Big Sandy was too much con- 
vulsed with weeping to speak. 

These men had been in the same regiment during the 
whole war, and as so many of the men were killed, or too 
disabled for duty, the regiment became so small that the 
companies were consolidated, and these two, both being 
members of the Primitive Baptist Church, had been very 
close to each other. 

In the hurry. Ball disappeared, and when Big Sandy 
had ministered to his dear old comrade, he hunted for 
him with a look in his eye which betokened no good to 
him. 

Next morning, the marshals slowly went down the 
river road to Oakville to take the cars for Louisville. 


242 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Big Sandy and five other men whom he chose lovingly 
carried Uncle Harve on a litter over the rough places in the 
road, lest the jolting of the wagon should hurt him, and 
when in the wagon. Big Sandy was always by his side, 
soothing him in every way possible and ready to render 
him every service in his power. 

The men who had been with Big Sandy on many raids, 
and had seen much of him in various circumstances, 
would shake their heads when looking at him, and say: 
“ He’s cut to the heart: He’ll never go on another raid, 
and he’ll never leave that old moonshiner as long as he’s 
alive.” 

They were in time for the midnight train for Louis- 
ville when they reached Oakville, and the Captain and 
enough of the men for guards went on with the prisoners. 
Big Sandy being made glad by the Captain saying to him, 
** I intended to leave you in command of the men, but out 
of consideration for your feelings I detail you to take 
charge of your old army friend.” 


XXV 


UNCLE HARVE IN LOUISVILLE 

I N the early morning, the surgeon met the train at the 
station in Louisville, and, after examining Uncle 
Harve, said that it would not do to put him in jail 
or take him to the United States’ Commissioner for ex- 
amination. He very decidedly recommended that he be 
sent to the hospital under guard, to await the result of 
his injuries. 

The commander of the deputies called Big Sandy 
aside and told him that he would send him to the hos- 
pital with the wounded man as guard, as he would know 
how to make his old comrade as comfortable as possible 
and give him every attention which would tend perhaps 
to his recovery. 

Uncle Harve was much surprised to find himself 
separated from his companions, and in an ambulance 
with his old-time friend. Big Sandy gave his gun to one 
of the other deputies, saying: I won’t need this, me an’ 
Harve understan’ one ’nother, an’ I’ve got tuh answer 
tuh th’ gover’ment fer him with my life.” 

The sweet, clean cot, and the touch of hands which 
soothed the spirit and cooled the fever, were to Uncle 
Harve a beacon of hope. He looked at his friend as he 

243 


244 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


sat near him, and though he did not speak to him often, 
the look of trust discernible in his face told that he 
was sure of him, and had perfect confidence in his good- 
will. 

Colonel Perry called every day, but it was thought; 
best not to excite the weak and failing man by the surge 
of feeling which would rush over him at the sight of the 
one he had rescued from death. 

When the surgeon gave up hope of the recovery 
of the old soldier, as the wound was so close to the old 
one in his breast, that inflammation had been renewed in 
it, the importunate pleadings of the Colonel to be per- 
mitted to minister to the man to whom he owed all the 
powers he had with which to help anyone were granted. 

Uncle Harve was in a disturbed sleep from the influ- 
ence of medicine when the Colonel entered, and Big 
Sandy, out, of politeness, had given him his seat and 
stood at the head of the cot out of sight of the sufferer. 

What visions were passing in the mind of the daunt- 
less patriot no human pen can say, but the old man's 
features showed that his active mind was employed in 
movement, where fear had no place, and the high quali- 
ties of heroism were given exercise. Was he in the ranks 
swept by the minnie balls " of Hood’s Texans, and 
answering the wild blood-curdling Rebel yell which 
sounded above the cannon’s boom and the scream of 
the shell, as his comrades fell around him, by shouting 
to the broken ranks of the bloody and terrible Second 


UNCLE HARVE 


245 


Kentucky Infantry : '' Close up on the right, men, an’ at 
’em with the bayonet fer the sake o’ old Kentuck’ ”? Or 
was he seated in the centre of a ring of fire, holding his 
first-born son in his arms and thinking of his wife who 
was laid away on the old hill back of Pete Finley’s 
cabin, when he was yet weak from unhealed wounds, 
staggering after Joe Johnston in North Carolina? Or 
did faces and forms come t.o him of the women and chil- 
dren in the mountain cabins, now twice bereft of hus- 
bands and fathers, because, if not dead, they were shut 
up in jail and soon to be incarcerated for years in penal 
servitude ? 

In his delirium he saw Mandy’s face looking upon 
him, and, stirring, he said, Howdy, Mandy ?” and open- 
ing his eyes saw Colonel Perry, when he expected to see 
his old comrade. 

He did not speak, but his eyes made it evident that he 
was with his son and those who acted with him, and 
when he said, in a low voice, “ I didn’t make it no 
worse,” the Colonel could not restrain his tears and so 
could not speak, but put his hand on the wasted one of 
the old man, while he controlled himself sufficiently to 
say, Mr. Turner, I am here to thank you for my life, 
and to give all I have to help you now and ever here- 
after.” 

Uncle Harve only looked at, him steadily, as if over the 
sight of his Winchester, and said, I didn’t make it no 
worse,” meaning that it was just the same in agony and 


246 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

death to him and his whether the Colonel were dead or 
alive. Then he turned his eyes around the ward, seek* 
ing for a sight of his companion, Big Sandy, and when 
seeing this, the old man moved and came into view, a 
look of content, came over Uncle Harve’s face. 

“ Do you wish any message to be sent to your home- 
folks, or wish them to come to you,'’ the Colonel asked. 
He was much confused at this, and it seemed as though 
he was not going to reply to it. Big Sandy here came, 
and, bending over him, said gently, “ Harve, ol’ man, 
we'll sen' fer y'r folks ef y'u wants tuh see 'em, an' 
bring 'em heyeh right away. Colonel Perry says y’u 
mustn't stop 'cause it 'll cos' a lot, fer he hez all th’ money 
y'u needs fer 'em tuh come on." 

Still, though it was seen that a struggle was going on 
from his face, he did not speak. 

“We wants tuh sen’ by tuh-day's mail, Harve, an’ it '11 
go in an hour. Let us know right away," added Big 
Sandy. 

“ Ef he'll take a lien on me farm fer th' money, I'd like 
'em sent fer," he slowly said. 

“All right, just as you wish," the Colonel said. 

“ Write tuh Sis tuh th' Cou't House, an' tell her tuh 
cum an' bring 'em. She’ll know whut tuh do," the old 
man faintly said. 

Colonel Perry went as rapidly as he could to his office, 
which was in the same building as the Post-Office and 
wrote to Ruth that it was the opinion of the doctors that 


UNCLE HARVE 


247 


Uncle Harve would live but a few days, and that it was 
his desire that she should come on at once, and bring’ 
any members of his family who wished to see him, but 
to do in the entire matter as she thought best. 

'' As it is probable that, a letter addressed to his 
daughter would not be received for many days, if at all, 
I write only to you. Please take Miss Camp’s advice, 
as she is known to me to be a lady of discretion. The 
enclosed check will be cashed for you by the Post- 
master, who knows me well, and is in the habit of cash- 
ing checks for' us when on duty in the mountains. Do 
not spare money in doing whatever you think necessary; 
there is much more here at your service, as all I have 
belongs to Mr. Turner, if he is in need of it.” 

When Ruth received this letter the next day, she 
placed it in Miss Camp’s hands, who, after reading it, 
said : ‘‘ Miss Finley^ go, prepare your'self for the trip, 
while I get. the money on this check and find someone 
to take you to the house of the old Elder, who will no 
doubt go with you on your errand and do everything 
needed to further it.” 

Sis was soon ready to go, and when she came down 
from her room, she saw Miss Camp coming across the 
public square, and, following her, was a mounted man, 
leading a horse upon which was a side-saddle for 
her. 

“ Miss Ruth, here is the hundred dollars for the 
check. Mount at once, and make no delay in getting to 


248 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


the railroad at Oakville. By travelling to-night, you can 
catch the morning train. Don’t leave your father’s 
friend and yours until you can bring him back and bury 
him by the side of his wife, if he dies, and if he recovers 
so as to be able to come home, bring him with you. I 
am sure Colonel Perry will go on his bond that he may 
be released on bail.” 

In three hours Ruth was telling the old Elder of the 
contents of the letter, and, of course, did not need to 
ask him to help her. 

Y’u kin feed y’r bosses an’ git a snack an’ go back 
tuh th’ Cou’t House. I’ll see tuh all whut’s tuh be done 
meself,” he said to the man. ** I’m goin’ tuh Harve 
’ith you. Sis.” 

To save time, he sent his son to get the horses, and 
went and put on his '' preachin’ clo’es.” “We mus’ be 
a-goin’ so’s not tuh be too late at night in gettin’ tuh 
Oakville,” he urged. 

It was not much out of the way to go by Uncle 
Har've’s cabin, and Mandy did not take many minutes 
in putting on her homespun dress and green sunbonnet. 
A short halt was made at Mrs. Finley’s, and as Bub was 
“ set on goin’,” he was told to get his colt and come 
along. 

Oakville was reached by eleven o^clock, and, before 
sleeping, the old Elder arranged with a friend to keep 
the horses for them until they came back. 

Colonel Perry was at the station at Louisville t,o meet 


UNCLE HARVE 


249 


them, having telegraphed the conductor at Lebanon 
Junction to know if they were on the train. He handed 
them into a carriage and drove rapidly to the hospital, 
for Uncle Harve appeared to be sinking fast, and 
there was danger that he would pass into unconscious- 
ness and never return to the knowledge of surrounding 
things. 

The old Elder was more broken by the bad news than 
any of them. His large heart was swelling with emo- 
tions which rose like a tide, impelled by the thoughts 
and remembrances of more than fifty years. 

Mandy wept silently in one corner of the coach, and 
Ruth and Bub sat holding each other’s hand and keep- 
ing back the outward expression of the grief which, be- 
cause of this, was only more potently gnawing at their 
hearts. 

When they reached the hospital, they were cautioned 
by the head-nurse not, to give way to their feelings, as 
there was always slight hope, even in the most desperate 
case. 

The old Elder, leading Mandy, first entered the ward, 
and when they came to the side of the cot the old man, 
who seemed to be far gone into the “ river of death,” 
looked up and saw them, his eyes went, from one to an- 
other, giving out glances of love and confidence, and 
taking in gleams of hope and joy in return. The appear- 
ance of pain and death began to clear from his face, like 
fleecy clouds passing from that of the sun, beginning at 


250 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


his forehead and coming down until his lips moved with 
a childlike smile of content,. 

Little was said, the Elder could not talk, his heart was 
so wrung. Uncle HarVe was turned by the nurse and 
Big Sandy on his side, so that he could the better see 
them, and, as he gazed, his unconquerable soul shook off 
the waters of death and began to take on fresh strength 
for other years of life. 

At nine o’clock the doctor came in, and on an exam- 
ination he told Colonel Perry that he believed, if there 
was a continuance of the improvement of the last few 
hours, that the old man ** would pull through yet.” 

As none of the mountain-quartet would consent to 
leave the cot of the sufferer, they were permitted to ‘‘ set 
up ” with him in the mountain fashion. The old man 
slept at short, intervals all night, and every time he waked, 
his glance would go from face to face, as if he had some- 
thing to get from each one. They were to him like a 
breath of mountain air, which had in it no trace of grime 
or dust. 

When the morning came, content was on his brow, and 
it was plain that his forces had rallied, and that he was 
much better. 

Day by day, the little company came from the board- 
ing-house, where Colonel Perry had established them, 
to be with and strengthen the now slowly recovering 
man. 

As it was assured, after some days, that he would soon 


UNCLE HARVE 


251 


be able to go before the Commissioner, Colonel Perry 
spoke to the Elder about an attorney, and of someone 
to go on his bond at the same time, telling him that he 
was ready to give a bond which would be sufficient and 
provide a fee for any attorney he would wish to have. 
He also suggested, as the next term of the Federal Court 
would begin in about two weeks, that if Uncle Harve con- 
tinued to improve as he was now doing, it would be best 
to have his case tried at that term of the Court. 

He had good hopes that such was the feeling in his 
behalf, that if the case were properly handled, he would 
be acquitted. This, he explained, would save him from 
going back to the mountains before he was a free man, 
and would also prevent a long period of anxiety, which 
might affect his health. ♦ 

The old Elder seconded this advice, and declared that 
he would stay with, and stand by, Harve until the last 
day in the morning, and as long as he had a button on his 
coat. 

When Uncle Harve became aware of what was to be 
done, he agreed t,o the coufse indicated, and asked that 
** that air Keith man be sent fer tuh do his part o* th’ 
lawin^ as he wuz a man fer a mount’in-man tuh tie to.” 

Keith had never appeared in a Federal court, and felt 
somewhat doubtful of his ability to meet the require- 
ments of such a case as that of Uncle Harve; but he 
came as soon as he could arrange his business for his 
absence. 


252 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Uncle Harve was much relieved when he saw him, and 
said : “ Ye won’t sell a man out, I knows, an ’ll stan’ fer 
whut’s right ’till th’ las’ horn blows.” 

“ But, Uncle Harve, I am not familiar witji the mode 
of procedure in the United States Court, and I think that 
I had better have some one of the old and experienced 
practitioners at the bar of the court t,o aid me, so as to 
insure that no mistake will be made which might injure 
your case.” 

Git ’em ef y’u wants tuh, but mind I’ll be a-trustin’ 
in y’u tuh keep ’em in th’ traces an’ see tjiey don’t kick 
outen ’em. I hain’t no faith in lawyers any more than 
I hev in a leaky canoe. I wants som’ un tuh bail out th’ 
water, when I gits in it, or I’ll hev tuh swim fer it. Y’u 
watch ’em close, an’ keep ’em frum lettin’ me sink ef y’u 
gits ’em. That’s all.” 

Ruth and Mandy, with Bub, went home after Uncle 
Harve “ got about,” and left him' in the care of the old 
Elder, who was to stay for the trial, to testify to the good 
character and standing of Uncle Harve in the neighbour- 
hood where he lived. 

Mr. Keith said he would remain in Louisville, look up 
the law, study his case, and otherwise put himself in trim 
to aid in every way possible the cause of his client. 

Ruth was delighted to be near Keith again, a, feel- 
ing reciprocated most heartily by him. She was show- 
ing the improvement in her mind in the increasing 
beauty of her face ; and while the two years added to her 


UNCLE HARVE 


253 


age was bringing out tjie elegance of her form in so many 
ways that Keith thought her not simply a magnifi- 
cent creature/’ as he said she was when he first made 
her acquaintance, but the most beautiful and lovable 
woman he had ever seen. 

Ruth returned to school witji a renewed resolution to 
employ all her time and abilities to gain what her oppor- 
tunities had in store for her. She resolved that when 
she went to Louisville again, she would not feel the 
embarrassment which she had suffered from so keenly on 
their trip, because conscious of the lack of that which 
made the ladies whom she met, when with Mrs. Perry, 
so much at their ease, and the delight of those with 
whom they associated. 

Then her affection for Keith was now so deep and 
strong that she was not only under its influence, but was 
moved by it to rise in every accomplishment which would 
make her worthy to become his wife, should that be one 
of the things happily allotted to her in life. 


XXVI 


THE TRIAL 

I N few places in this country could there be seen such 
an aggregation of strange and curious, as well as 
wretched, persons as thronged the corridors and 
rooms of the United States Court House at Louisville 
when the term of court began at which Uncle Harve was 
to be tried. 

Dressed — or perhaps we should say undressed — in 
homespun garments, dyed with copperas, or the bark of 
walnut or sweet-gum trees, and cut and made by the 
women, after the pattern of a hundred years ago, with 
little relation to the shape or height of the person wear- 
ing them, they presented a motley appearance. Some of 
the men had on only a shirt and pair of trousers, and a 
coarse pair of shoes or boots, made of material from 
their own section, even to the wooden pegs by which the 
soles were fastened to the uppers. The trousers were held 
on them — for they were usually from six to ten inches too 
large around the waist — ^by at least one suspender of the 
same material. Thorns were often used instead of but- 
tons to fasten these suspenders or “ gallowses,'’ as they 
named them. Upon their heads they wore either a coon- 
skin cap, or a wool hat of the cheapest and coarsest kind. 

254 


THE TRIAL 255 

They had little or no money, and many of them mani- 
festly suffered for the want of the simplest food. 

At times, the United States marshals ran a drag- 
net through sections of the mountains and brought the 
simple, the infirm, and the poor under arrest to the city, 
upon any pretext or, as sometimes happened, on no pre- 
text at all. 

Colonel Perry frequently found himself forced to pay 
out of his own pocket the railroad fare of some of these 
persons to their homes, to prevent them from starving 
on the streets of the city, or starting out to walk 150 or 
200 miles without a mouthful of food or a cent, of money. 

It is probable that a number of innocent men were sent 
to the penitentiary, because, from the distance to be trav- 
elled, and the want of money, witnesses could not be 
secured. 

Their hair was, in most, instances, long and tangled, as 
if no comb had traced its length and depth for many 
years, and their faces often remained innocent of the 
touch of water for weeks together. 

There were to be seen some sunbonnets in the crowd 
also, for wives and mothers not infrequently sold the 
last of their eartjily possessions to get money to follow 
husbands and sons to the courts, to be with them at these 
trials. Worn by long years of hardship and worry, these 
women presented a picture of utter despair in face and 
manner, which no true lover of his kind could look upon 
without deep feeling. 


266 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


They were, for the mostj part, a silent throng. Their 
large and thoughtful eyes spoke for them as they 
watched the movements of the officers of the court, and 
listened to the marshals and clerks, as they gave orders 
and called the witnesses and attorneys. Everything was 
strange to them, and they did not trust anyone. They 
-felt that they were being abused and outraged, and each 
longed to be upon his native heath, his Winchester in his 
hands, and plenty of ammunition in his belt. 

Keith was advised by Mr. Marshall, a lawyer of na- 
tional reputation, to wait as long as possible in bringing 
Uncle Harve to trial, as the jury would, after sending 
a number of men to the penitentiary, be more in the 
spirit of acquitting others. 

The young man saw the wisdom of this, after witness- 
ing the promptness and decision with which the men 
were convicted. The jury was composed of middle-aged 
men, most of whom had seen more or less seiwice in the 
army, and who had been summoned from all over the 
State, save from the mountain region. No man from the 
mountains would convict one of the prisoners, for he 
could never return home again if he did, unless the gov- 
ernment should afford him army protection during the 
remainder of his life. 

At last the pale and feeble old man was put in the 
prisoners’ dock, and, by special and earnest request, the 
old Elder was allowed to sit with him. 

In his ''sarment,” after he got home, Elder Morgan 


THE TRIAL 


257 


said : ** When, my brethrin, I seen that air weak or man, 
es white es th' kivers o’ top o’ him, who were onct 
straight an’ strong as one o’ them trees out thar in front 
o’ th’ meetin’-house tuh which y’u ties y’r bosses, y’u ez 
hez got bosses, I went in thar an’ when I sot down a-side 
o’ him, I felt prouder ’an when I were ’ith him at th’ 
battle o’ Perryville, an’ I seen him lyin’ like dead on th’ 
groun’ an’ I says to him, ' Bruther Harve, air y’u much 
hurt ? ’ an’ he open’ his eyes an’ said : ‘ Elder, don’t min’ 
me. I’m good fer nothin’ but tuh die, be up an’ arter them 
fool-rebels. ’ ” 

The proof was clear that Uncle Harve was with the 
moonshiners when Colonel Perry was captured, and also 
when he was taken prisoner himself. This was clearer 
and more than had been needed in most of the cases 
where conviction had been secured in the trials preceding 
this one, and the United States Attorney had prepared 
for nothing more. 

Mr. Keith on cross-examination asked the witnesses if 
they had ever known, from their personal knowledge, 
the prisoner at the bar to make or sell or have in his. pos- 
session any illicitly distilled whiskey. The first witness 
tried to hedge off these questions and to tell of where and 
with whom he had seen Uncle Harve. 

Mr. Keith objected to such answers, and after an argu- 
ment of some length, in which the defence contended 
that as the indictment charged tjie prisoner with being 
what is commonly known as a moonshiner,” and not as 


258 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

bearing or using firearms, or the wounding or killing of 
men, that tjie prosecution must establish, beyond a rea- 
sonable doubt that Harvey Turner was seen by these wit- 
nesses to either make, sell, or have in his possession, 
whiskey upon which the license due the government of 
the United States had not been paid. 

The judge sustained the defence in its contention, and 
ruled that witnesses must be confined to testifying to what 
was germane to the indictment, and not to what, if there 
was any purpose in it;, was likely to prejudice the jury 
against the prisoner. 

The attorney for the government, being a sensible man, 
as well as a good lawyer, seeing that the more witnesses 
he brought, who failed to reach the points made necessary 
by the indictment, the worse it was for his case, called 
very few and was quick in getting through with them. 

The old Elder was put upon the stand, and testified 
that he had baptised Uncle Harve more than forty years 
before, and that, so far as he knew, he believed he had 
been a Christian man, and was so held by the community 
where he lived. 

The attorney for the prosecution tried, on cross-exami- 
nation, to prove by the Elder that he had seen Uncle 
Harve in flagrante delicto ” with whiskey, but Keith 
stopped this by saying that he had not laid grounds 
for such questions in t,he examination-in-chief, and if the 
prosecution desired to ask such questions, it would have 
to introduce the old Elder as its own witness. 


THE TRIAL 


259 


The United States Attorney summed up in a short and 
incisive speech, and asked for a conviction upon general 
principles, rather than upon tjie direct evidence of his 
witnesses. He alluded to Mr. Keith as a raw youth from 
the mountains, who had come down to the region of civili- 
sation for the first time, to save from prison a hoary- 
headed sinner, who had been broken in pieces by the con- 
sequence of his own crimes. 

Mr. Keith was timid about speaking and had urged 
Mr. Marshall, a great man and practiced orator, who was 
with him in the case and whose voice had been heard 
within the walls of the Capitol of the nation, to perform 
this duty, but the wise and discerning man, in declining, 
told him : 

“ Your enthusiasm, love, and respect for our client is 
such that if you will go into your address with all your 
heart and ring the changes upon the old man's war- 
record, and describe his conduct in the battles he was in, 
I think the jury will be sure to consider long before it 
sends him to prison. Then the old man will not be satis- 
fied unless you speak, and, if he is sent to prison, he will 
always blame me in his heart, for being there. No man 
can tell what a jury will do; but the wiser course, in my 
opinion, is for you to go on and do the best you can.” 

Keith's voice was firm and clear, though his knees did 
tremble when he arose to address the jury. He had 
noticed that the work of the attorneys for the prosecution 
had been mostly perfunctory and without animation, 


260 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


and he resolved that, come what might, he would give 
the best he had to Uncle Harve and his cause. 

In a few well-chosen and terse sentences he drew the 
contrast between the words of the indictment and the 
proof offered by the attorney for the government, and 
then, calling attention to the way in which that attorney 
had gone back to the expedient of the discredited attor- 
neys of England of t,he past century, and when he found 
he had no case, had attempted to abuse the attorney on 
the side against him. 

He said, “ I may be a raw youth from the mountains, 
but even in that benighted part of the earth, as my 
brother for the prosecution would have you think it to be, 
it has never been known that a man was indicted for one 
offence and tried for another. 

“We have had to come into this entrepot of all the 
beneficent arts and sciences, which are intended to- ame- 
liorate the hard places of man’s lot, and to beautify and 
adorn society with that which makes it a paradise for* en- 
joyment and a theatre for achievement, to find a lawyer 
who outrages all law and ignores all precedent in his 
malign effort to get the blood of one of the heroes of his 
country, now on the verge of the grave from old age 
and hardships and wounds borne for his country’s 
honor and defence; while, to cover his dastardly attack 
on the liberty of that old man” — ^here he paused a mo- 
ment and pointed to Uncle Harve — “he makes an at- 
tempt to discredit the counsel for the defence and to 


THETRIAL 261 

asperse the region from which ‘ old Kentucky ’ draws the 
strongest and truest of her soldiers. 

If your honour please, and you, gentlemen of the 
jury, will hear me, I will proceed to read the record of the 
enlistment, and services of Harvey Turner, in the Army 
of the United States. 

** In the first band of patriots that came down from the 
mountains, armed with their hunting-rifles, the prisoner 
appeared. Then his hair was black and his face ruddy, 
his step was elastic and firm, and his port showed to all 
the world that he was a man. In the camp of instruc- 
tion when he was asked for how long a term he would 
enlist, he proudly replied : ‘Till th’ las^ man who shoots 
at that air ol’ flag’s dead ur whipped.’ 

“ In the little band of feeble and broken men who sur- 
vived the horrors of one of the most terrible wars of his- 
tory, he came back home, to find his wife in the grave, 
his children living with relatives upon their bounty, and 
his farm desolated; and when he had given up his arms 
and been mustered out of the service, and a band marched 
down the streets, playing ‘ The Star-spangled Banner,’ 
he cried, ‘ Fall in, men, an’ let’s us step onct more to th’ 
music o’ th’ Union.’ Leading the march, as if young 
again, he kept step with his comrades as long as the blast 
of patriotism went out upon the air of heaven.” 

Mr. Keith then described Uncle Harve in several 
battles where he had fought,, with a fervent eloquence 
which at times moved the jury to tears, and caused the 


262 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

judge more than once to put his handkerchief to his 
face. Then he added, '' Gentlemen of the jury, I ask you 
to recall the terror of the battles in which you fought^ 
amid smoke and noise and death. Remember the wild 
and furious charges you were in; the despairing retreats 
you were forced to make with breaking hearts; the 
wounds and imprisonments, in damp and vermin-filled 
prison-houses, where you suffered the agonies of death 
from home-sickness and hunger and thirst and disease, 
and t,hen ask yourselves if you will consider even the pos- 
sibility of sending this, your old comrade, to suffer the 
disgrace and peril of imprisonment. 

“ Behold him, gentlemen, as he now sits before you. 
You do not look upon a pensioner'. He has refused and 
will refuse to be thus paid for the free and willing ser- 
vice he rendered his country in her sore trial. He was 
always a private soldier, and has never pleaded his war- 
record as a reason why he should be given an office under 
the government, as some who ar'e always seeking office 
have done (here he looked at the attorney for t,he govern- 
ment) ; but has found himself satisfied to be one who 
gave all he had in the hour of trial to his country, and 
whose proudest distinction will ever be that he was, and 
always will be, a loyal Kentuckian.” 

Mr. Keith sat down, and t,he judge was evidently re- 
luctant to begin to charge the jury (the attorney for the 
government had declined to speak again). The judge 
began, and said simply: “If you believe, gentlemen, be- 


THE TRIAL 


263 


yond a doubt, which is in accord with reason, that the 
prisoner at t,he bar is guilty, as charged in the indictment, 
you will find him guilty, and if you are in doubt, you will 
of course acquit him/' 

The jury filed out, and the attorneys immediately be- 
gan to congratulate Mr. Keith upon his wonderfully 
efifective speech and the reputation which it would give 
him in court. 

His associate-counsel, Mr. Marshall, patted him on the 
shoulder and said: *‘You see, I made the best possible 
decision in the case by forcing you to address the jury. 
I shall always be proud of it, both because it will surely 
result in the acquittal of our old friend over there, and in 
the introduction to the bar of a man who is destined to 
be one of the foremost lawyers of Kentucky. If you will 
come into my office I’ll make you a partner — ^this is an 
offer, and I hope you will do me the honour to accept it, 
and wind up your business in Yellowboro as soon as pos- 
sible.” 

Mr. Keith was nonplussed for some moments by what 
was said to him, and tjie great good-fortune which had 
been the reward of his self-sacrificing work for his 
mountain friend, — self-sacrificing so far as it was not 
for the sake of Ruth Finley. 

The jury were soon back in their seats. 

“Do you, gentlemen of the jury, find the prisoner at 
the bar guilty or not guilty? ” the officer asked in a loud 
tone which was heard out info the corridor. 


264 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


The foreman rose and said : “ We find him not guilty/’ 
There was a buzz of approbation throughout the court- 
room. Many started to the desk to take Uncle Harve by 
the hand and congratulate him, but, all stopped at what 
they saw. The old Elder did not rise when he heard the 
announcement of the verdict, but put his arms around the 
neck of his life-long companion and friend, and Uncle 
Harve put his arm around the man who had been his 
ideal of honesty and truth and of the religion of Christ 
all his life. They did not speak, t,hey simply embraced 
each other, and silently wept as only the strongest men 
can weep when the gates of life are opened by the com- 
mand of a gratitude which is of God and comes from 
God. 

The Elder’s chair slipped from under him, and he rose 
and partly lifted Uncle Harve at the same time, who also 
now stood upon his feet. ‘‘ Harve, brother o’ my soul, 
I’m powerful glad ; now we’ll go home an’ spen’ our days 
in sarvin’ tji’ good Lord fer His marcy tuh us.” 

Yes, Elder, I’m mighty glad, too. The Rebels nuver 
got me tuh prison, an’ I’m thankful my own folks won’t 
put me than I felt shore I were gone when I seed how 
fas’ they sent them others up, but I didn’t want tuh worry 
y’u by lettin’ on. I know’d it ’d be hard ’nuff when it. 
cum tuh yer ’ithout lookin’ fer it.” 

The old soldier felt most of all the coming of the jury- 
men to him, and telling him that they could not find him 
guilty, and then asking him as a special favour to them 


THE TRIAL 


265 


that he would, for what remained to him of life, be a quiet 
man and not go with those who were in the ways of law- 
lessness. With bowed head, the old soldier said: “I 
promise,’’ and then the Elder added firmly and in his 
preaching tone, “ Harve were nuver know’d not tuh keep 
a promise onct he hed made it.” 

Uncle Harve was himself again by tjie time Mr. Keith 
joined them and greeted him with, Were that me y’u 
wuz a-talkin’ ’bout whun y’u wuz speechefyin’, ur were 
it some other feller ?” 

The cars that night had three passengers for the 
mountains, and though they sat together, they said very 
little to each other. When the two old men left Mr. 
Keith at Oakville, the latter said : I will not say good- 
bye, for I am coming up in a few days to see you and 
say 'howdy,’ as I have some business to attend to at 
Smith’s Court House before I remove to Louisville.” 


XXVII 


RUTH GRADUATES 

R uth FINLEY showed what a strong will, together 
with a mind susceptible of receiving and retain- 
ing good and lasting impressions, can accomplish 
in three years, when it is moved to action by a purpose 
single in aim, and concentrated by an exalted and inspir- 
ing passion. 

The ordinary and profane did not influence her enough 
to cause a halt, in her onward movement, even long 
enough to listen to their allurements. Her object, to gain 
all that her teachers could aid her in securing, was always 
with her in such force that her proud and energetic spirit 
took it as part of itself, and t,here was nothing lost in hesi- 
tation or in conflict. 

Miss Camp was so impressed by what she was doing, 
and inspired by her evident devotion to her heart’s desire, 
that she helped in giving her instruction in a way that so 
quickened her mind and brought to her memory what, 
she had been taught in the institution in the East from 
which she graduated, that she delighted to meet Ruth 
both in the school-room and in private, when tjie latter 
needed help in some difficult matter. 

Now that the day of graduation had come, both teacher 
86a 


RUTH GRADUATES 


267 


and pupil were pleased with each other, and were con- 
scious that good work had been faithfully done and 
that progress beyond the hope of either had been 
made. 

The mountain girl, who had entered the school shy as 
the doe upon the mountain-ranges, and had suffered so 
keenly from mortification at her plain homespun dress 
and coarse, unlined, thick-soled shoes, and green sun- 
bonnet, who did not know how to arrange her hair, which 
came below her waist, and was so thick and harsh that 
it, like many other things in that region, defied proper 
control, was now the self-possessed young lady, admired 
of all, and loved by her teachers and schoolmates. 

Miss Camp, when sending to her sister at her home 
for some articles needed by herself, had ordered the 
simple white material suitable for a dress for Ruth and 
then made it a point of showing her love to her pupil 
that she should receive it from her. Mountain pride was 
subdued by mountain love — the only way to conquer it — 
and Ruth was soon as much interested in putting the 
material into form as her teacher. 

The old Elder and Uncle Harve, with all the Finley 
family, were there to witness the closing exercises of the 
school, and, with them, were almost all the congregation 
of the Salem Meeting-House. 

Ruth had not put on her graduating attire until after 
the meeting with hei* family and friends, and so when she 
marched up the aisle of the Mission chapel with the 


268 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

teachers and her fellow-pupils, there was a great sensa- ] 
tion among the visitors in the church, especially among ; 
her own people. Bub rose up and forgot to sit down ' 
again for a moment, and her mother seemed dazed and 
ready to cry. Keith drew up his shoulders and looked. 
Could it be possible that this was the “ Sis ’’ of the moun- 
tain cabin — this woman with the refinement and grace 
of a duchess and a beauty that might be the envy of a 
queen? 

Uncle Harve said nothing, but, as he reported after- 
wards, '‘took it out in lookin', an’ did a powerful sight 
o’ thinkin’.” The old Elder, who was on the platform, 
turned round and took a long breath, as he did when ris- 
ing to a climax in his “ sarments,” and finally remarked 
to Mr. Gordon, who was by his side, “ That gal’s jest like 
Pete Finley, only she’s bin gen’ally made tuh look pur- 
tier. I nuvef seed th’ like in all my born days, an’ ef 
gals make so much trouble ’ith th’ boys in these parts, as 
they hez, ’ifhout whut this heyeh school does tuh ’em, I 
wonder what’s goin’ tuh happen now they’s all tuh be 
made up like Sis thar.” 

Mr. Gordon read the Scriptures and then announced 
that the guardian and life-long friend of one of the 
graduates would lead in prayer. Elder Morgan rose very 
slowly and, taking off his spectacles, drew the case from 
his trousers’ pocket— he had no vest— and, with great 
deliberation, put them in the case and returned it to his 
pocket. He then walked to the edge of the platform, 


RUTH GRADUATES 


269 


crossed his hands before him, and after deliberately 
looking the audience over, said: “We’ll now ap- 
proach th’ throne o’ grace in behalf o’ these people now 
heyeh.” 

It would be a reflection on Omniscience to think that 
He was unaware of what would flow from the elder’s lips, 
but it is certain that no other intelligence in the universe 
had any conception of what was to come. The vehicle 
of its presentation, to a wondering company, certainly 
worked with the instrument of thought without any fore- 
cast of results ; and he was as surprised at himself as the 
others who heard him when he became aware of what he 
had said. 

As his chief objection to the people who had the school 
was that they were too much like the Methodists, and 
did not preach and believe in election, as the Bible taught 
it, and as the events of life proved it, he took comfort in 
the confidence that God had ordered it all from before 
the foundation of the world and tjiat he had nothing to 
do with it. 

He asked the Lord to “ Bless Brother Gordon, ah, that 
poor innercent lamb ah, fer we all knows, ah, that he 
does th’ bes’ he knows how, ah.” Then he asked “ that 
th’ school mought be kep’, ah, frum makin’ th’ women, 
ah, too proud t,uh do thar work, ah, an’ frum makin’ all 
th’ gals, ah, tuh dress up as fine as a fiddle ah, an’ swing 
^round ah, tuh show theirselves off, ah, like th’ gals in 
Louisville, ah.” 


270 SONS OF VENGEANCE 

The teachers then came in for their share and he asked 
'‘that them air dear an' purty teachers whut am lamin’ 
th’ gals outen thar big books, ah, mought be kep’ frum 
puttin’ too many fool-notions, ah, in th’ gals’ heads ah, 
sich as ’ll make ’em afeered of a cow, ah, so th’ men, ah, 
’ll hev tuh do th’ milkin’, ah, which y’u, ah, knows, ah, 
haint right, as hit were ordered, ah, frum afore th’ foun- 
dation o’ th’ worl’, ah, fer didn’t Rebecca, ah, take th’ 
cattle an’ sheep tuh water, ah ? ” 

In turn all present, either as one of a class or as indi- 
viduals, came info this remarkable “address to the 
throne of grace,” and it became a matter of serious diffi- 
culty for Miss Camp to control her girls, and a serious 
question whether the old Elder would get through in 
time for the remainder of the exercises to be concluded 
that night. 

At, last, some invisible power intervened and stopped 
him, exhausted, and without saying Amen, with great 
deliberation he returned to his seat and the programme 
was begun. 

This was one of the first occasions of its kind in that 
region, and, to many present, the only one tjiey had ever 
attended. It filled them with mingled wonder and pleas- 
ure, especially the music by Miss Bell. 

Mr. Gordon spoke for the teachers and the Woman’s 
Home Missionary Society of the church, who had estab- 
lished and maintained the school, and told his audience 
that, the chief aim of those who were directing and sus- 


RUTH GRADUATES 


271 


taining it was to prepare the young women to uphold 
themselves in all the true relations of life — to be able 
to teach with greater accuracy and' zeal, when called to 
become teachers in the public schools of the country, and 
to do the best that was in them for the rising generation 
of young people. 

Higher than all these aims was the chief and domi- 
nant idea of following Christ humbly and sincerely and 
in planting and deepening piety in human souls. 

“We know that the Baptist ministers have been con- 
stantly preaching the doctrines of that church in this 
country ever since the land was first settled by your 
fathers, all of whom came from Virginia, and that the 
Methodist circuit-rider has been in almost every com- 
munity for at least seventy years, and that it is a rare 
thing to find an adult person in this region who is not a 
member of one of these bodies of Christian people, and 
rarer still to find one who has not heard Jesus proclaimed 
as tjie only Saviour of the world by them; but we think 
we have been moved by the Holy Spirit to undertake the 
work we are now trying to do, that the young people may 
receive an education, which the State steadily and con- 
stantly refuses to give them, and which is so badly needed 
that we cannot answer to God, and at the bar of our own 
consciences, if we fail to continue to press it, as He has 
given us opportunity and power. 

“We desire not to interfere with our brethren of other 
churches, but to help them in their work, and our hope 


272 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


is that, co-operating with them in all their well-meant and 
divinely guided labours, we "hall see some day these 
mountains filled with a people renowned as much for 
their education and piety, as they are now for their hon- 
esty and courage.” 

The old Elder said, after the exercises were over, that 
“That air young man talked so smooth-like, an’ seem t,uh 
know so much, I really believe thet ef I could git him tuh 
use th’ holy tone, an’ talk long ’nuff, he mought make a 
preacher yit, some day.” 

Miss Camp only said that she hoped to see them all 
again next year, and that tjiey could see in Miss Finley, 
one of their own people, whom they had heard read her 
essay, what was the nature of the work they were doing. 

“ Miss Finley has been invited to remain with us for 
the next year as one of our teachers, while she continues 
her studies under our care. May we not expect, to see 
a number of her friends here with her? ” 

“ Wall, Sis, I don’t gin no opinion ’bout all this thin’,” 
said Uncle Harve, “ as I hain’t got down ’nuff tuh its 
vital parts yit, but y’u knows, honey, y’u’s nex’ tuh Mandy 
thar, plump in my ol’ heart, an’ as long as I kin do a thing 
on this yearth, y’u kin call on y’r Uncle Harve. It don’t 
seem nateral-like fer y’u tuh be a teacher, an’ be so 
dressed up. I kin hardly know it’s y’u, but,. Sis, y’u’ll 
nuver be above th’ poor ol’ man who were Pete’s frien’ 
an’ yourn uver sence y’u was born, will y’u ? ” 

The old man’s voice quavered and gave such proof of 


RUTH GRADUATES 


273 


his heart-ache, that Ruth was overcome and put her arms 
around his neck, and kissed him, saying : “ No, Uncle 
Harve, no place is so good to my eyes as to cause me to 
think of being above you, the truest, kindest man I’ve 
ever known since the sad day when Pa was brought 
home dead.” 

Mrs. Finley did not feel right until Ruth had taken off 
her graduating dress and was clad in one which she had 
carded and spun and woven and dyed for her. Could 
she also have cut and made it after her own style and 
pattern, instead of from those obtained at the school, as 
Ruth insisted, she would have felt more that she could 
claim her for her own, and rejoice to have her go home 
and be just as t.he others of the family. 

Mr. Keith had only time enough to speak to Ruth for 
a few minutes. He was filled with devotion to her and 
had, when he found that she was to be at the school an- 
other year, changed his purpose of winding up his busi- 
ness at the Court House, as he had intended, and at great 
cost and inconvenience determined to come there and 
attend to it himself. 

He gave her hand a pressure which made her tingle 
from head to foot, and expressed his pleasure at her suc- 
cessful carrying out of her plans for an education, and 
at the prospect, of her remaining in the school to continue 
her studies with Miss Camp, whom he assured her was 
one of the most accomplished and competent persons in 
his knowledge to lead and instruct her. 


274 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


He finished by asking her the privilege of writing to 
her once a week and of a reply to each of his letters. He 
had never corresponded with a young lady, he said, and 
he hoped that she would not count the deficiencies of his 
letters against him, but, remember, that she was the only 
woman on the earth, except his mother, from whom he 
cared to receive a letter, unless upon business connected 
with his profession. 

Ruth hesitated and said she had written very few let- 
ters in her life, and never one to a gentleman, and she 
feared that she would be a very uninteresting corre- 
spondent, and moreover she was doubtful of the propriety 
of her writing regularly to a young man in his position 
and of his age. 

She at last gave her consent that he might write, 
adding, I will tell Miss Camp, and will do just as she 
says about it.” 

When the promised letter came, it was, while polite and 
manly in whole and in every part, so unmistakably in its 
spirit an assumption of a claim on his part over her, that 
Ruth could not sleep t,hat night and was so altered by the 
emotion in her heart, that her mother noticed it, and asked 
the cause. 

She knew that a storm would come at once and stay as 
long as she remained in the house, if she told her mother 
all of what was in her heart, so she was forced to hide 
her soul from her, the one woman who should have 
helped her most. Under the circumstances, she decided 


RUTH GRADUATES 275 

to go next day to Smith’s Court-House to Miss Camp 
and tell her of the letter and ask her advice. 

Her first trouble put before the faithful and wise 
friend was as to her duty to her mother. Miss Camp 
told her that in this she could only give her what, she 
considered the principles of action, and leave to her the 
details of performance. Her mother had a natural and 
God-given right to her confidence, and was, within the 
scope of her ability, the proper one to advise her; but as 
her mother had no doubt, never written or received a let- 
tr from a young man, nor been in contact with anyone 
who had, and was by nature and education necessarily of 
another order of thought and being, she did not think 
that it was best to invite a disturbance by telling her 
mother of the letter, and that she had better, now that 
she was over twenty years of age, settle the matter her- 
self. 

After Miss Camp had read the letter, at the urgent and 
repeated request of Ruth, she said, “ It shows clearly 
that the writer considers himself a suitor for your love, 
and that he is presuming that you know this. If you 
write to him in like spirit, he will be encouraged to go 
further and this correspondence will soon bring a decla- 
ration of love from him and a request that you marry 
him. Mr. Keith is a gentleman, and a very sincere man, 
and if it is not your intention to give him encouragement 
in his evident intention, you had better not enter into this 
matter further. It is for you to answer this in your own 


276 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


heart. He is worthy of you, and I do not counsel you 
to drop the subject if your heart is his.’’ 

Ruth folded up the letter and put it in the envelope, 
then said sweetly and with a vefy becoming blush, ** Miss 
Camp, my heart says write to him, and I will.” 


XXVIII 


THE FEUD RENEWED 

I T was quite a long time after the death of Clem Jones 
and the shooting of Ham Simms before the knowl- 
edge of it reached the neighbourhood of Salem 
Meeting-House. Uncle Harve and those who were with 
him did not speak of what they knew, except to those 
who would be careful to whom they talked of it. 

In strange ways the Mack party finally heard rumours 
of what had happened and sent two of their number 
down to Yellowboro to investigate. These men could 
find out nothing definitely connecting the Stokes party 
with these murders, though they believed that Uncle 
Harve had either shot Ham Simms, or had got some 
friend to do it. 

It was not that they cared much for the killing of these 
men that they investigated, and kept the talk going 
among themselves, but the clan spirit was so deeply 
rooted and intense with them, that they felt their honour 
— such honour — was involved in taking vengeance for 
the death of anyone who was on their side, however 
mean such a person might be. 

The question of renewing the feud had often been con- 
sidered, and but for the influence of Mack, who was now 

277 


278 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


active, having partly recovered from his wounds, it would 
have been done. Mack had reached the point of wishing 
that he could live in peace, and was very hopeful that he 
would be able to do so, when he and a number of his ad- 
herents were summoned to court at Smith's Court-House, 
as witnesses in an important case, where they found a 
large number of the Stokes people. 

All day the men were meeting in the square, and in the 
court-room, and though nothing was said or done which 
was unpleasant, each side and the general community 
felt that danger was always near. 

Just before the adjournment of the court for the night, 
a young man of the Stokes party was going down the 
stairs as fast as he could go, after the manner of young 
men, and just as he made the turn near the bottom, he, 
ran with a great deal of force into a brother-in-law of 
Clem Jones. The young man was as innocent of any in- 
tention of doing this as he possibly could be, but instead 
of stooping and picking up the man’s hat, which he had 
knocked off, and giving it to him with an explanation 
and apology, he ran on out of the court-house, laughing 
immoderately. 

The man whose hat was knocked off concluded that he 
was being abused and made a laughing-stock of out of 
mere wantonness, and, not stopping to think, turned and 
followed him into the yard and struck him a blow which 
almost killed him. 

Being surrounded and prevented from doing further 


THE FEUD RENEWED 


279 


harm to the prostrate man, he mounted his horse and rode 
rapidly from the town, muttering vengeance against all 
the Stokes people. 

The town was soon vacated by the men of both par- 
ties, and the news flew far and wide that the desperate 
feud was renewed, and that another reign of terror had 
begun. The consultations had scarcely started when 
the news came that the young man was killed in his 
father's stable-yard by someone hidden in the patch of 
laurel a short distance above it. 

The Macks gathered up the creek in their old fort and 
put it in condition for a siege, while the Stokes party 
were on the rocky bench of the mountain above Pete 
Finley's. 

Bub Finley took down his father's rifle and patted it 
upon the stock, saying, “ Y'u's fer Mack an' all his 
cussed tribe," and went up the slope of the mountain, 
along the same course he had gone years before with 
Ruth, when she ran with the news of the death of the 
Miller boys. 

Uncle Harve had not, come to this conference, nor had 
Percy Miller, and so disturbed was Stokes, and also 
some others, by this, that a messenger was despatched to 
go with discretion to Uncle Harve's cabin to find out 
why, if he was alive, he had not obeyed the call of the 
chieftain. 

The messenger found the old man at home seated in 
the chimney corner, quietly scraping an axe-handle with 


280 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


a piece of glass, and seemingly as calm as if he had never 
heard of the gathering on the mountain above him. 

“ Why on yearth air y’u heyeh whun we’s all now up 
in th’ lorrel gettin' ready tuh meet th’ Macks? ” the mes- 
senger asked with some feeling, when he entered the 
room. 

I hain’t goin^ up thar, an* I hain*t goin* tuh hev 
nothin’ tuh do *ith any o’ this fuss,” was the reply, which 
struck the messenger dumb with astonishment. Words 
would not come for a time, either to express feeling or 
wonder at, what he saw and heard. 

Uncle Harve meanwhile did not cease scraping the 
handle and only glanced at his visitor without giving 
him the steady and penetrating look he was expecting. 

“ Whut mus’ I tell ’em when I gits back ? ” the man 
finally gasped. 

“ Tell ’em whut y’u seen an’ heard.” 

‘"Am that all? They’ll not be suited ’it,h that leetle.” 

Then tell ’em whun I wuz let off in Louisville, I 
promised th’ jury whut let me off, an’ ’lowed me tuh 
come home a free man, not tuh go ’ith y’u agin on sich 
goin’s-on as y’u’s at now. Whun they laid it out tuh me 
as plain as daylight, an’ ast me not tuh do it agin, I an- 
swered ’em in jest two words, ‘ I promise,’ an’ y’u an’ 
Stokes an’ all ov th’ balance on y’us knows as well as y’u 
knows y’r own names that means when Harve Turner 
says that, thar hain’t no yearthly use o’ any more 
talkin’.” 


THE FEUD RENEWED 


281 


But, Uncle Harve, them ’ll cum heyeh an’ kill y’u in 
y’r own house, an’ thar hain’t no un ’ll help y’u. Now 
cum on ’ith me an’ tell ’em y’uself whut, y’u air goin’ tuh 
do,” was the solicitous rejoinder of the messenger. 

No, I hain’t goin’ one foot. Thar’s nothin’ more 
tuh tell ’em, an’ ef th’ Macks wants tuh cum heyeh an’ 
kill me, they kin do it’ ef they kin. A man kin die but 
onct, an’ besides I reckon they knows that th’ ol’ man 
’ith his Winchester an’ plenty o’ powder an’ lead in his 
own house ’ll be likely tuh send some on ’em afore him 
tuh show th’ way afore they gits him. Y’u needn’t spen’ 
any more time heyeh; I ’spec’ they’s wantin’ tuh see y’u 
up thar.” 

There was nothing more to say, and when the mes- 
senger went away, the old man took down his gun, looked 
it over with his practiced eye, saw that it was ready for 
action, and went on with his work. 

The report of the messenger, which was given with 
some exaggerations, caused the assembled men to con- 
clude that Uncle Harve was out of his head, like Percy 
Miller, from whom they also had heard while the man 
was away interviewing Uncle Harve. 

The old Elder had gone to see Percy Miller as soon as 
he had heard the news of the terrible lynching of Clem 
Jones, and told it to Percy in the hope thus to arouse 
him out of the melancholy into which he had fallen after 
the death of his comrade, Bill Scruggs, and the loss of 
his twin-boys. 


282 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


Miller was difficult to influence for a time, and so the 
story was gone over slowly three times. The Elder, 
after the last recital of it, told him that now he could see 
how God avenged His own people, if they would only 
leave it in His hands. 

“Ef y’u hed y’r way, y’u’d hev shot them two bad 
fellers an’ hev bin content, but God ’lowed ’em, whun 
they’d run out o’ th’ county an’ thought they wuz free 
from all they’d done, tuh cum tuh their death in them 
strange ways.” 

Miller smiled for the first time since his boys had been 
shot and said : “That’s so. Elder, that’s so ! ” He asked 
to be told all the details once more, and, when this had 
been done, he rose and walked round the room a few 
times, and then seating himself again beside his pastor, 
murmured, as he looked into his ^face, “ It’s bes’ tuh leave 
it ’it,h th’ Lord, Elder, like y’u say, an’ I’m a-goin’ tuh 
do it frum this day for’ard.” 

And he did it, and that was the reason given the con- 
clave on the mountain for his not being present with 
them. 

Several men were shot within the next few days and 
the militia was called out, by the Governor of the State 
to put the feud down by the strong arm of the law, at 
whatever cost. Three companies were now camped at 
the Court-House, but were only able to take care of 
themselves and made little headway, if any, against the 
feud. 


THE FEUD RENEWED 


283 


Miss Camp had talked to several of the county officers, 
and a number of the people whom she could conveniently 
reach, about this and other feuds, and had made such 
impression that she was gratified to know that a senti- 
ment was becoming general against, all such violent 
customs. 

Ruth Finley was among her first converts, and now 
asked to be permitted to visit the Stokes rendezvous, and 
get her brother away and all others that could be per- 
suaded to come with them. 

The Stakes party had been meeting with more things 
that they could not fathom than the position taken by 
Miller and Uncle Harve. In strange ways, sometimes 
spoken of as the grape-vine ” and then as the little 
bird line,’" the Macks had learned that Uncle Harve and 
Miller were at home. 

They at first thought that Uncle Harve was sick, and 
Miller was not able to leave home because of his mental 
trouble. The truth came to them, in some hidden wa>, 
and one morning the old Elder found a badly-written 
note in his front-yard. It was worded thus : 

Tell Harve Turner an’ Percy Miller they is outen 
this thing, an’ none on us is goin’ to hurt ’em any more 
’an we does wimen- 

‘‘ Mack.” 

The Elder was “ knocked off his pins,” as he said, by 
this note, and hastened to get his horse and go and 


284 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


spread the news. He thought he saw the end of all such 
dreadful feuds in this frank missive, and in what Ruth 
Finley had told him of the feelings of the people with 
whom Miss Camp had talked, at the Court House. 

One of the most sensible and influential men had told 
Miss Camp that we’re seein’ these things in a different 
way. We know how much better our children’s gettin’, 
an’ what good things y’ur aimin’ to hev ’em do, an’ we’re 
now goin’ to st^n’ by the law an’ see it carried out, cost 
what it will. Y’r school has got to the right place, an’ 
we’ll be a new people in a few years, ef y’u go on as 
y’u’ve begun.” 

When the old Elder reached Miller’s house, he told 
him what he said was “ the bes’ news I’ve hearn fer many 
a day.” 

Miller was made glad, for he had been hiding out by 
day, and creeping home at night under cover of the dark- 
ness. He at once saddled his horse, and, leaving his 
rifle, rode on with the Elder to see Uncle Harve. He 
knew, after reading the Mack communication that he was 
safe anywhere and at any time, for whatever Mack 
might be and do, he would respect his written word and 
so would all his people, to whom he no doubt had com- 
municated what he had done. It was a perfectly ‘‘ safe 
conduct ” in this time of war. 

Uncle Harve was “ taken aback ” by the note also, 
though he had not been so careful of himself as had 
Miller. 


THE FEUD RENEWED 285 

“ I sort o’ felt it in me bones that I were safe whun I 
took th’ Stan’ I did. I don’t put all me weight on every 
bridge I goes on these days, but I’ve begun tuh hang on 
tuh a higher power. Sis Finley’s gone up th’ mount’in 
arter Bub, an’ I ’spec’ y’u hed better go fin’ her an’ help 
her out some, ef y’u kin.” 

“Ef y’u’ll cum ’long an’ show us th’ way, we’ll go 
right off now,” the Elder added. 

“No, I won’t go ’long. Y’u hearn me promise whun 
I wuz let off at Louisville, an’ I can’t go among ’em agin. 
I won’t go, an’ that’s all thar is on it! The soldiers 
might cum on ’em while I wuz tfiar, an’ fin’ me an’ it ud 
look as ef I hed broke me word. They knows how I 
feels an’ whut I’m goin’ tuh do ’ithout me tellin’ ’em.” 

When the Elder and Miller found the bulk of the 
Stokes party, Ruth Finley had them literally at bay. 
Bub was sullen, and defiant, but she was holding her 
own, with all the spirit of hef father, and had just told 
them that she would never leave them without her 
brother, and he might as well come now as some other 
time, for he knew that she would carry out her purpose. 

When the Elder appeared, with Miller, the acute situa- 
tion was relieved, and when the note from Mack was 
read and commented on by the Elder in his preaching 
manner, there was considerable confusion in the camp. 

Stokes was a right-minded man in all ordinary affairs, 
and was beginning to see that there must be an end to 
such feuds as they were now engaged in, or the country 


286 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 

would be utterly ruined. He saw the beginning of the 
end in the calling out of the troops, and as he had no 
heart for being tried for the killing of Mack, though he 
was sure he would be acquitted, said at once that he was 
for any honourable way out of the difficulty they were in. 
He thought it was all over* when it was settled the last 
time, and was in it now only because his honour made 
it impossible for him to stay out of it when it was re- 
newed. 

“ Sis, heyeh, hez toV us th’ truth ’bout it, an’ I hain’t 
blamin’ her one bit^ seein’ as she thinks ’bout it as she 
does, fer cornin’ arter her brother. I’ll tell y’ur whut 
y’u do. Elder. Y’u an’ Percy go an’ git Uncle Harve 
an’ y’u an’ him ride up tuh Mack’s fust, an’ tell him we 
air willin’ tuh make a child’s bargain ’ith ’em. Ef they’ll 
let us alone, we’ll let them alone, an’ we’ll all go home 
an’ go tuh work.” 

This was agreed to, and Ruth took back her statement 
that she would never leave them without her brother, 
and went home, after making him promise that he 
would come down to the house and see her and her 
mother just as soon as he got news from the Elder about 
the result of his meeting with Mack. 

Uncle Harve listened to what the Elder had to say, 
but said not a single word in reply. He just rose and 
walked to the log-stable where his horse was, and, bring- 
ing him out, saddled him, and called out : “ Elder, I’m 
ready; cum on!” 


THE FEUD RENEWED 


287 


The Mack party was taken with much surprise at see- 
ing the man they most dreaded, and whose conduct, since 
the renewal of the feud, had so knocked out all their cal- 
culations, riding up to their lair. Moreover he was un- 
armed — a condition they had never known him to be in, 
except when under arrest. They thought the end had 
surely come. 

And it had come. That’s th’ only way it ’ll uver end, 
an’ I don’t see no use a-keepin’ this thin’ up forever,” 
Mack said, and his followers were willing to join with 
him in this, or any other line of conduct he chose to fake. 
As they were scattering to their homes. Mack said to 
Simpson : I starts fer Missouri to-morrer, an’ I wants 
y’u tuh go ’long ’ith me.” 


XXIX 


MR. KEITH COMES TO COURT 

M r. KEITH was now well established in business 
in Louisville, and, through his distinguished and 
wealthy partner, was already accepted by the 
best people of the city. 

His pleasant ways, his fine appearance, and his ability 
as an orator and lawyer, caused him to be much sought 
after for all social functions, and he was deemed a splen- 
did match for any young lady in the set in which he 
moved. 

Rumour had begun to associate his name with that of 
his partner's beautiful and accomplished daughter with 
such persistency that he himself heard of it. He saw 
that something must be done to prevent an annoying 
situation. He was tremendously in love with Ruth Fin- 
ley, and he had never lost the memory of her magnifi- 
cent beauty. He actually admired her before she had 
fully developed and had gained her education, and now 
that she had showed her mastery over the peculiarly dis- 
couraging difficulties of her situation, his love was rein- 
forced with unbounded admiration. 

He had wished to wait two or three years for the 
money necessary to make a home of his own before for- 
288 


KEITH COMES TO COURT 289 

mally offering himself to Ruth ; but he now saw that he 
must act for his own sake promptly, and that, if she 
could afford to wait, he could not. 

Her letters, while in every way maidenly and modest, 
led him to see that she confided in his honour and 
esteemed him highly as a gentleman. Ruth was an ex- 
ample of mental vigour which had increased its power by 
accumulative force for several generations, amid purity 
of life and freedom to think in the midst of nature’s 
grand text-books, untrammelled by conventionalities. 

Seeing this in her letters, where she wrote of first prin- 
ciples and demonstrated with unfailing precision their 
necessity and use, and then led on to what is seen only by 
the eye opened by Him who giveth His unveiled glories 
to be seen by those whose devout spirits wait before Him 
in calm confidence, Keith realised that she was his equal 
in mind, as well as in all other endowments, and he was 
growing impatient for the time when he could give him- 
self and all that he had into her keeping. 

He resolved that he would wait no longer than the 
next term of court at Smith’s Court House, which was 
soon to open, and give him his opportunity for seeing 
her. 

On reaching the court, the day he arrived in town, he 
was chagrined at the nature and variety of the entangle- 
ments connected with his cases, and saw that his applica- 
tion must be intense and his work hard if he would suc- 
ceed in gaining them. 


290 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


His motto as a lawyer was to leave nothing undone, 
if he had to work all night to succeed in his legal battles. 
Here he was confronted with the necessity of making 
his burning impatience to tell Miss Finley of the state 
of his heart, wait, upon the. inexorable rule by which duty 
and honesty had bound him to his clients. 

He called at the school and told Miss Finley that he 
had found unexpected difficulties in his legal work, and 
was confronted by some of the ablest lawyers in the 
State, whom he did not know were in the cases, and that 
he was forced, much ' against his desire, to forego for 
the next few days the pleasure of her company until he 
was through with his struggles in the court. 

He gave her hand a warm pressure, and was gone, 
being in the house for not more than ten minutes. With 
heavy heart he went to his little, lonely room at the hotel, 
and laboured over his papers until the ‘‘ wee small hours 
of the morning. 

When he went to the court next day, though weary in 
body and mind, he felt sure he could defeat his adver- 
saries, if he could control himself and keep a clear mind 
and a calm spirit. 

The opposing attorneys — retained with large fees by 
the land-grabbers in their desperation — counted Mr. 
Keith not strong enough to bring out their powers. The 
speculators had warned them, but the warning had only 
increased their superciliousness. 

When they saw the business-like way in which he ar- 


KEITH COMES TO COURT 291 


ranged his papers, the books he was to use, and the calm 
and confident aspect he displayed, the leading counsel 
whispered to his associates : If that young fellow is not 
foolhardy, we are in for it, I reckon/^ 

And they were in for it in a way which they could not 
understand, and before the court closed that day, they 
were glad to offer a compromise, and to take the cases 
out of court. 

Mr. Keith simply replied: ^‘Gentlemen, I never com- 
promise a suit unless I feel I shall lose it. I am in the 
right in these cases, and am sure to win them, and I will 
not give you one acre of this land to withdraw your 
claims.” 

At this, the counsel became angry, and, with an oath, 
declared: “You will earn all you get then, young man,” 
and left him. 

The battle went on for days, and every subterfuge, 
legal and illegal, which the court would permit was tried, 
but though ready to drop from sheer exhaustion, Mr. 
Keith had obtained the verdict. 

Two of the opposing lawyers were so chagrined that 
they would not speak to Mr. Keith, but the principal was 
magnanimous enough to offer his hand and say : “ I did 
not expect to meet such a man as you have proved your- 
self to be, and I wish to tell you that I will not advise 
our clients to appeal these cases, as the principles upon 
which you have gained them cannot be changed. You 
have settled the land-titles for a large section of this 


292 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


part of the State in these cases. I hope, the next time 
we meet, that we shall be on the same side.’’ 

After supper, Mr. Keith found the reaction from the 
strain so great that he was not able to carry out his de- 
termination to go to Miss Finley the first moment, he had 
leisure. 

So he sent a note saying that he was so worn out by 
his work, that he was compelled to rest until the next 
day, when he hoped to see her. 

Ruth had suffered much all these days. The bitterness 
of her draught, which she had expected to be so sweet, 
shook, if it did not overcome, her proud spirit. She had 
no knowledge of the nature of court proceedings, and so 
could not comprehend the exacting and severe nature of 
them. She shared the common supposition that lawyers 
have a very easy life, and that they were always able to 
command their time and enjoy themselves at the expense 
of other people, who were usually their victims. 

When Mr. Keith took his hurried departure from her, 
she would have been angry, but for her confidence in him 
and the great love she bore him. 

She looked for him every hour of the day, and from 
seven to nine o’clock in the evening her expectation was 
intense. If she could only have known the fearful 
struggle he was in, and how his heart was longing with 
all its power for her, she would have been saved most of 
her anxiety and pique. 

As it was, she felt herself neglected, and disappoint- 


KEITH COMES TO COURT 293 

merit grew into something like resentment. A man, to 
go to bed rather than come to spend the evening with 
her, when she was so anxiously waiting for him. This 
is too much ! ” she thought, “ and I’ll let him go at once 
and forever, if it kills me.” 

Had she only known the forlorn state of the brave and 
honest man she loved, as with aching head and restless 
limbs he. tossed on the hard and narrow bed in the ding}' 
hotel, her admiration for his character and love for his 
pure and noble spirit would have been unchanged. 

After a night of riotous and angry thoughts, she arose 
determined to go home as soon as she could make ar- 
rangements, and after breakfast, at which she could force 
herself to eat, only a little, she told Miss Camp that she 
must go home for a few days, and that she wished to set 
out at once. 

The observant teacher saw that there was something 
wrong with her protegee, to cause her to come just then 
to such a conclusion. The trouble that Ruth was in had 
not escaped her, and she divined its cause; but feeling 
that it would all correct itself in due time, she thought it 
best that she should not interfere. 

Now being sure that a crisis had come, and that there 
was danger that two lives would be wrecked, she at once 
exclaimed : Ruth, you should not come to any hasty 
conclusions, nor take any ill-considered step. You may 
bring on a lifelong sorrow if you do.” 

Ruth for a moment resented this speech, but as she 


294 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


lcx>ked into the careworn, loving face of her who had 
given so many wise counsels, her heart melted and she 
replied : “ I want so much to do the right thing. Miss 
Camp, but why should he neglect me all these long and 
weary days.” 

“ Why do you think he has neglected you ? He told 
you of the great pressure which he had to bear, and how 
he expected to see you as soon as it was removed. He 
will keep his word, and you must wait and trust him.” 

Look at this, please,” Ruth said, as she handed the 
hastily written note of Mr. Keith’s to Miss Camp. 

As she read it, Miss Camp said with some feeling, 
caused no doubt by surprise that Ruth had not seen this 
for herself : “ He is sick, I fear very sick ; this note shows 
it. Oh, Ruth, why did you not see this? ” 

She did see it now, and her grief at the mistake she 
had made, and the probable consequences of it, if she had 
persisted in the course she had resolved to take, was as 
sudden and strong as her anger. 

“ Shall I go to him. Miss Camp ? ” she asked, as she 
paled and reddened by turns. 

No, I will go and see how he is in a few minutes. 
You had better go to your room and wait until I return.” 

One woman hastened to the hotel with a strange dread 
upon her heart, as she knew the effect of severe mental 
strain, when mingled with the excitement of contention 
and fierce debate. Her own father was an attorney in 
the East. The other woman, in her room, was upbraid- 


KEITH COMES TO COURT 295 

ing herself for her mis judgment of her lover, fearful but 
hopeful with the sweetest hope that ever comes to a true 
woman. 

Miss Camp was told that Mr. Keith had not, come 
down from his room that morning, but that inquiry 
would be made immediately to ascertain his condition. 

While Miss Camp waited with some anxiety, Keith 
came intq the parlour, and, when she saw him, she was 
certain that his state was critical. There was nothing 
she could do in explanation of her call, but to say that 
both she and Miss Finley were made anxious by the 
note he had sent the evening before, and that she could 
not help calling to ask after him. 

Sick as he was, Keith beamed at the thought that 
they were thinking of him, saying, “I was utterly worn 
out last night,, after the days I have had to spend in 
court, and the nights I was forced to give to preparing 
my cases. Fll try to take something to eat and will then 
come at once to the school.” 

The first five minutes in the school cleared the air 
from all dark clouds. Keith waited no longer. What 
her heart had longed to hear her lover was saying to her, 
and Ruth found the resentment and fear of yesterday 
were all yesterday’s, for to-day brought a new life; a life 
sweeter than she had dreamed, and which, she heard 
whispered many tirries into her ear, would never end. 


XXX 


CONSTANCY’S REWARD 

T he laurel was in full blcx)m when the impatient 
lover came to the house of the old Elder on his 
way to take the bride who was waiting for him 
in the little cabin perched upon the mountain-side. 

The glory of the flowers made all the mountain a 
mountain of beauty. They were now at the height of 
the gratitude they give to the God of nature for His 
preserving care through the winter, in the way they wel- 
come the spring with its balmy air and the exhilaration 
of the life newly awakened, by just blooming as they are 
told to do by all the voices of their nature. 

The mountaineers did not gather flowers and had 
never thought of decorating their houses with them, and 
Miss Ruth Finley did not think of the appropriateness 
of being married when thousands of acres of land had 
on their lovely array, until she walked to the back of the 
house on the morning of her wedding day to look over 
the prospect for the last time before she was to become 
a wife. 

She stood looking at the old familiar mountain car- 
peted with the growing spring, and the thoughts which 
came acted as messengers sent of God to open the door 

896 


CONSTANCY’S REWARD 297 


to other worlds of thought and feeling. She saw how 
the whole region had put on its holiday robes, that she 
might have this beautiful picture of her mountain-home 
to carry with her into her new life. She was glad as she 
received with ready mind the lessons of the flowers, and 
thanked God that He had given this wealth of beauty at 
the time of her wedding. 

Well, young man, y’ur heyeh I see, arter our Sis gal. 
It makes me heart sick tuh hev her go out o' this 
mountain, but I likes y'u, an' trusts y'u, too, even ef y'u 
air frum a flat country an’ lives in a place o' smells an’ 
fuss; an' I lives in hopes our gal '11 be helped o' God 
tuh make y'u better than y'u air," was the salutation 
given to Mr. Keith when he reached the old Elder's 
house, on the morning of the wedding. 

** Now, min'. I'm a-goin' tuh tie y’u up hard an' fas', 
an' every man 'roun' heyeh air a special guardeen fer 
Sis, an' when y'u gits her, y'u’ll hev th love o' heaps o' 
th' proudes' an' faithfules' hearts that ever wuz in human 
bodies 'ith her." 

Keith and the Elder walked to the Finley place, but 
Uncle Harve could not come, because the wounds in his 
breast had broken out afresh, and he was prostrate, and 
in danger of speedy death. 

The Elder was dazed for a time when the news came 
to him, but after some thought he asked to see Ruth, to 
whom he said, ‘‘ I jest knows that Harve air in a mighty 
heap o' trouble, 'cause he can’t be heyeh an’ see y'u 


298 


SONS OF VENGEANCE 


married, an' I don’t see as how I kin hev a han’ in dis- 
app’intin’ him.” 

Ruth bowed her head for a moment till perceiving the 
Elder’s wish, she said : “You speak to mother, and I will 
ask Mr. Keith if we can’t all walk along the mountain, 
and have the marriage by Uncle Harve’s bedside.” 

Mr. Keith was much touched when he was , told of 
the sacrifice his bride was willing to make for the poor 
old dying man, and was ready to act as she desired. 

Mrs. Finley was stubborn for a while, but when the 
Elder asked her what she thought would be Pete’s wish 
in the matter, if he could express it, she said : “ Pete 
’ould put his han’ on Sis’s shoulder an’ say, ‘ Y’u’s my 
own gal. Sis, an’ like y’r dad. Let’s be off right now.’ ” 

So they formed in line, the Elder and Mrs. Finley in 
front, and Keith and Ruth immediately behind them, 
going through the blooming laurel to Uncle Harve’s 
little cabin to be married. 

When near the house, Mr. Keith broke off a bunch of 
the laurel and handed it to Ruth, saying, “ Please hold 
this while we are being married, for it is the one flower 
which suits you this day, and, as we think of it here- 
after, it will bring to our memories the dear old ever- 
lasting hills where it and you bloomed.” 

Uncle Har\^e was too weak to sit up or talk much, and 
when he was able to take in the meaning of the coming 
of the party to his cabin, was more overcome tjian the 
Elder had ever seen him. 


CONSTANCY’S REWARD 299 

Keith and Ruth stood where his aged eyes could look 
upon them, and when the long and rambling discourse 
which the Elder used as a marriage ceremony was over, 
and Ruth went to his bedside to bid him farewell, he 
took her hand and said : “ Good-bye, honey. Uncle 

Harve loves y’u all he kin, an’ he jest naturally knows 
y’u’ll be mighty happy all y’r born days ’ith this Keith 
man. I’ll not be heyeh when y’u comes agin, but y’u’ll 
fin’ me grave up yander back o’ th’ house jest at th’ feet, 
o’ Pete and Bill Scruggs, though I hain’t worthy to lie 
aside ’em.” 

And so it was that when the happy bride and groom 
were on their bridal trip, the ground was opened and 
the brave old mountain Kentuckian was laid to sleep his 
last sleep where his heart, which had never flinched in 
any test, told him he ought to lie. 


THE END 


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